An Out of World Experiance
by Mr Waffle
Summary: A young man has been taken from our world and put into the world of FMA to preform a task for Truth, can he complete his mission? Not a SI.
1. A strange start

White. It was pure white as far as the eye could see.

Blind. Perhaps I was blind? But I could still see myself.

Ugh. How did I get here? Last I could recall I was falling asleep.

Dream then. But I can't usually think this well during my dreams. And I can feel myself too, I don't usually have control over my dream self either.

Dead? Well it doesn't look like hell, but it doesn't look like heaven either.

No pearly gates in sight.

**_Hello there. _**

A voice, it sounded like it came from all around me! I turned left and right trying to place its origin.

**I'm right in front of you.**

What? That's impossible-

There was something 6 inches away from my face.

I jumped back and yelled. Falling on my butt. The voice just laughed as I observed its form.

It was me. Same short brown hair, eyes, height, same clothes- actually it was nude. That's kinda creepy.

Scratch that, all of this is rather creepy.

**_Ah, allow me to introduce myself, Mr. Richter. To put it quite simply, I am you. _**

The voice was mine as well now, but also it sounded like my parents, my friends, acquaintances...

**_But I am also the universe, God, Truth, Reality, so on and so forth._**

Wait, White room, Truth.

Oh shit, this can't be-

_**I can assure you Mr. Richter, this is very, very real**. _

"B-but how?" I stumbled out. My panic was through the roof and I felt as though I was going to collapse.

**_How? I summoned you here of course. Or rather, requested someone from your dimension from my counterpart, and they sent you._**

"Your counterpart? Wait, why would you need me? I haven't done human transmutation or any alchemy for the matter! Why would you need me!"

**_You're panicking Mr. Richter, I can assure you you'll get out of this encounter with no toll paid, as you have said, you have committed no crime worth my attention, nor could you. Seeing as you have the lack of a gate._**

I swallowed. To nervous to ask another question, weakly gesturing for them to continue speaking.

**_The reason I need you, Eric Richter, is because you have foreknowledge of my world, decent enough combat training, for a 15 year old that is, and because you were handpicked by my counterpart for the job I'm about to offer you._**

Foreknowledge? Combat training? I had some experience with how to handle weapons and some self defense training but I've never had, or really wanted, to use it!

**_You see, something very wrong is going on with the timeline of one of my worlds. Someone who shouldn't be there is messing with the order of events, they currently haven't done much. Besides messing up the lives of a few unimportant actors. But they have the potential, and I think, the motive to mess something up._**

**_You see, I run a dangerous game of having thousands of parallel worlds running simultaneously with slightly different versions of the same actors running around in each of them. Meaning-_**

"There's multiple Fathers trying to eat you?" I interjected, realizing the problem.

**_Yes, and they are quite annoying too, occasionally throwing curveballs such as having '8 homonculi' or some other nonsense. However, in this case in particular I'm worried that a villain of one of the other worlds managed to crossover to another without my knowing about it. And I need you to stop them, while making sure the timeline remains somewhat similar to the others._**

**_Of most import it is that Father is stopped no matter what other differences though._**

I regarded the information silently, the blank whiteness of the room almost forcing my eyes to look at truth.

"If I do this, what do I get in return?" I asked, remembering the ever present mantra of Equivalent Exchange.

**_I'll give you a gate, and allow you to pass through it free of charge, but you'll only gain more of what you already know, it's how the gate works, so don't expect to be able to transmute without a circle, or do any alchemy for that matter._**

"So I'll be able to use weapons more skillfully, and fight better?" I asked.

**_Yes, and, depending on how well you do your mission. I may also send you back to your home when you're done if that's what you prefer. You'll keep your memories too._**

"Who's your counterpart?" I was quite interested in this as I was personally religious.

**_He's the 'Truth' of your world, though his style is quite a bit different from mine, different dimensions have different rules._**

...

Yeah he totally knew, and successfully dodged the real intent of my question there.

I stared silently, escaping the mundane normal world, allowing myself to not only experience my one of my favorite stories first hand, but also to _be _in it? A dream come true, right?

But my hesitation was still there.

"What happens if I refuse?"

**_I'll send you back, and you'll forget this entire encounter for the rest of your exsistence._**

...

I could die, never to see my family or friends again if I accepted.

Yet if I pull this off... It was quite litterally the best of both worlds. Having a life altering experience, getting to return home once it was done _and _keep my memories?

...

Ah screw it.

"I accept your offer, Truth."

He cackled, a door appeared behind him. The gate.

**_Very good Mr. Richter! Before you go, know that you'll be entering the world in the fall of 1913, shortly before Scar starts his murders._**

The gate opened, hands shot out and started dragging me in.

I didn't resist, my consciousness slowly fading away to the tune of Truths cackles.

———————————————————————

**Disclaimer: I do not own Full metal alchemist.**

**An: I'm new to writing fanfiction and am generally using this to gain writing experiance, all criticism is welcome.**

**Oh, and by the way this isn't a self insert. This is just an OC from our world getting dragged into FMA.**

**Have a good one, folks!**


	2. Stalking is a very bad idea, trust me

Visions, memories I hadn't experienced. Combat techniques I never learned, practicing I've never done, circling around in my head, assaulting my senses with the information overload.

It could have only been seconds but it felt as though I spent days learning, analyzing, mind being forced open to accept the false memories, the new information.

The gates knowledge.

———————————————————————

"Hey you! Kid you alright?"

I groaned, rubbing my head and wondering why I was sleeping on rocks.

Oh, Truth, Deal, FMA world, gate screwing your mind.

I looked up at a man dressed in an old fashioned military uniform.

Guess it's real then.

"You alright kid?" The man asked. He looked rather young and had a kind face.

A familiar face even.

Wait, that's Sargent Kain Fuery.

I rubbed the back of my head and grinned sheepishly. "I'm a little bit lost I'm afraid. Where am I?"

"Ah you must've hit your head. You're on Basque street next to 5th Avenue." My look of total incomprehension seemed to worry him more. "A couple blocks south of eastern HQ?" He said tentatively.

Ah! Eastern city, at least I had a rough idea of where I was in Amestris.

"Yeah I remember now, thanks, Mr... ?" I pretended to not know his name.

"1st Sargent Kain Fuery at your service!" He grinned cheerfully. Huh, guess he hasn't reached the rank of Master Sargent yet.

"Ah, I'm Eric Richter, pleased to meet you." I offered a hand, which he shook.

"Pleased to meet you as well, though I'm afraid I can't sit around to chat, I'm kinda running late to work."

"Ah, Of course. Thank you for your help." I said.

"Just make sure you don't fall asleep in anymore alleyways alright?" He joked. I grinned and nodded.

And with that he took off at an unbelievable speed, guess I can't blame him, the potential repercussions for being late while working under a pyromaniac are probably not good for your health.

God, I'm actually in the world of FMA aren't I? I started to pace rather aimlessly in the alley so I could think, shivering due to the cool air, I put my hands in my coat pockets-

Wait.

Coat pockets? Last I remember I was in a t-shirt and shorts going to sleep...

I looked down, I was dressed in a rather fashionable white shirt, vest, coat, slacks, and decent shoes. The whole 1920's shebang.

Now wonder Fuery woke me up! I probably looked like some recently mugged rich kid in that alley!

I checked my pockets, I found a wallet with a generous amount of what I could assume were Amestrisn Cenz. The most surprising of all was that in my belt there was a hidden sheath, which contained a rather fine looking combat knife.

That's awfully nice of Truth.

Too nice.

Come to think of it he didn't quite inform me how powerful a threat I was up against.

It was probably really bad considering how nice he was being with the starting equipment.

Ah shit, this is going to be hard.

Well, it's fall of 1913, Scar is about to start going on his crusade of revenge. What else is going on during this period? The show was never quite clear what exactly the Elric brothers were up to between 1911 and 1914.

More importantly, what do I do? I can't just avoid the plot when I'm trying to make sure it doesn't get changed.

Join the military? I'm too young. Well, unless I became a state alchemist. But I highly doubt I would be able to learn any important alchemy in a few months before the main plot started.

Ugh... for now, I need someplace to sleep for tonight, I should find a cheap motel where I could crash.

I started walking down the street, there were quite a lot of people rushing to get to their place of work in the early morning light. They were also quite rude about it, I got shoved and pushed quite a few times while I was walking.

I finally saw a decent looking hotel and stepped in.

The woman at the desk gave me a suspicious look. I guess it was kind of weird a lone 15 year old had walked into a hotel so early in the morning. But I walked up to the desk anyways.

"Excuse me ma'am, how much is a room for a night?" I asked as politely as possible.

"5000 cenz a night for a single bed room. where are your parents?" Her suspicion was still there.

"Back home, Im on my way to visit my uncle in Central, but I have to stop here tonight because of a train delay." I made it up on the spot.

"And you came alone?" She asked incredulously.

"My parents are busy people, they can't afford to take an extended break from there work to come escort me." Damn my overactive imagination is starting to pay off.

She suprisingly seemed to understand that. Giving a slight sad nod taking out a pen and a piece of paper.

"One night, correct?" I nodded. She wrote something down and then handed me a key. "Room 205, Second floor second right from the elevator, payment is due tomorrow morning when you check out."

"Alright," took out my wallet, shuffling around till I found a 500 cenz piece, if cenz was like yen that should be around 5 dollars. I handed her the money with a smile. "Thank you!" Praying I judged correctly with the tipping amount.

She smiled, guess I got the tipping amount right.

"Oh, do you happen to have a train schedule on hand?" I asked.

"Yes, here you are" she handed me a schedule.

"Thank you!" I headed off to my room.

It wasn't too shabby, it was essentially just a bed, a table, and a shelf. Which was more than enough considering how long my stay would be.

I first checked the train schedule, and found out it was covering the 14-28th of October. Meaning I would just need to ask someone the date of the month to find out exactly what time it was.

I took off the extra layers I was wearing, while they were appreciated in the chilling weather, they would get in the way of my exercise, I set them in the tiny closet on a couple of coat hangers. Leaving me just in my white button up shirt and slacks, yeah I might need to buy another outfit.

I pushed the table away and started to exercise.

I could feel the difference with the most minor of exercises, it seems to some degree the world was following some anime logic and I could roll, punch, kick faster and easier than I could have ever before. It felt as though I was far lighter than I actually was, and it was honestly exilherating to be able to do so much more push-ups than usual.

But that also meant the people of this world operated by this superhuman standard, that could be an issue.

I also inspected the combat knife more thoroughly, it seemed pretty well made, it had a knuckleguard that reminded me of brass knuckles, then I noticed something about the blade itself.

It had the words 'Veritas' engraved on it. It sounded Latin but I couldn't place the exact meaning of the

word. I put the knife back in it's sheath and began my work-out in earnest

Finally after half an hour of exercise I could feel my stomach growling. So I put my jacket back on and went downstairs.

The desk lady saw me coming. "Is there anything you need sir?"

"Uh yeah, to you happen to remember the date? I seem to have forgot." I put on the goofiest grin I could muster, it did the trick.

"Hmph, I think it's the 17th. Anything else?"

"Nope, thank you!"

She smiled, "your very welcome, Mr. Richter."

17th, the next train to central was 9:00 a.m tomorrow.

As I exited the hotel, I quickly realized something. Why was I going to central again? I didn't actually have an uncle there, it was just a cover story.

Was there something to do there before the story started? I think Scar's first murder was there, but I would rather not cross paths with him for the time being.

I spotted a coffee shop that seemed to be selling breakfast. I started walking towards there, ugh. I was sent so early my 'foreknowledge' of this world was practically useless! What was I supposed to do!

I was so lost In thought didn't see the man in front of me until it was too late.

"Oof! O-oh, Sorry Sir!" I stumbled.

"Oh your fine! But do watch where your going alright?" The man said.

I looked at the man I ran into as he left. Wait... military uniform, rectangular glasses, close trimmed beard and somewhat spiked hair...

That's Maes Hughes! But he's stationed in central right? The only reason he would be in East city would be if he was investigating some military related crime...

Hunger forgotten, I decided to tail him.

He kept walking, seeming to not notice me following him in the somewhat busy streets. I followed him all the way to the large Eastern Command building, where due to the guard patrols I decided it was best I end my tailing and finally get something to eat, I was rather disappointed about the lack of any information about why he was here.

—[—]—

My office, a fine room. Not too much decoration yet enough style to look regal, with a window at the back giving plenty of light and allowing me to fully relax in my comfortable chair, safe in my feeling of absolute security and power.

And yet, that security and power was being currently violated.

"Hughes. I don't have time for you to brag about your daughter right now! If you have something important to say spit it out!" I growled. Sorting through today's stack of paperwork

Hughes pouted. "Ah lighten up, will you Roy? Besides, it's not my fault you can't find a woman to stay in a solid relationship with-"

The piece of paper I was holding violently ignited into flames.

"Colonel!" Lieutenant Hawkeye yelled. "That was the monthly report." Her death glare sent shivers down my spine

"I'll go get another one, finances usually keeps an extra copy." Sargent Fuery said helpfully, and left the room in a heartbeat.

I sighed, and ran a hand through my hair. "Please, just tell me why you're here Hughes."

Maes immediately straightened up, his expression serious. "State Alchemist Truden Atherford."

Ah, of course. "The Plague Alchemist, one who committed suicide, yes?"

"Well, that's what the official record says but... some revealed information showed he may not have known there was poison in his drink the night of his death." Finished grimly.

"There's suspicion of murder? What information was 'revealed' Hughes?" I asked.

"He may have been selling some of his fabled chemical weaponry to a eastern separatist movement called 'Blue Squad.' Y'know, the one you've been trying to investigate for some time now?"

My eyes widened, The I head seen the Plague alchemist's chemical warfare in Ishval, his gleeful delight in the killing behind that strange bird mask of his. Letting the extremists have control over that dangerous of a weapon...

"He was most likely killed by Blue Squad to cover up there tracks, unfortunately for them it seems Atherford kept a journal detailing his shipments." Hughes continued.

"So, they have chemical weapons, how do we stop that, Hughes?" I asked. This was a serious matter that required immediate attention.

"My sources say they may not have even left the city with there weapons yet, and they might've already realized there ploys have been noticed. In fact, I was tailed by a kid on the way here. I think he's probably getting, or already gotten, breakfast by that coffee shop, 'Maria's'." He said.

At that moment Fuery walked back into the office and handed me the monthly report.

"Ah, Fuery. Just in time," I took the papers from him. "I need you and Havoc to go find and tail a kid who may or may not have sympathies with a terrorist group. Hughes, would you mind giving them a description?" I said, turning my head to face the man.

"The suspect is around 15-16 years of age. Short brown hair combed to one side. Somewhat well dressed, and around 5;10-"

"Excuse me Sir, But does this boy wear a gray vest with a brown jacket?" Fuery interjected.

Hughes blinked "Uh, actually yes. You've seen him before?"

"Yes sir, I saw him this morning on the way to work, he was sleeping in an alley and seemingly hit his head. I think his name was Eric Richter."

Me and Hughes shared a glance, seeing two military members in a day, one after the other, while already being suspect to terroristic sympathies. It was not a good look for this kid.

"Riza? See what files you can find on any 'Eric Richter'" I ordered.

"On it, Sir."

I grimaced and looked out the window, I had a bad feeling...

—[—]—

After getting breakfast, I decided I should go to the nearby shopping center, to see if I could find a suitcase, so I could hold any stuff I might collect on the way, and a spare outfit, so I didn't look like a rich snob all the time.

Suitcase was easy, though a bit pricey my current funds handled it fine.

Clothes weren't that hard to find either. Just some casual clothing that was a bit less good looking then what I already had was cheap.

While I was trying out outfits (hey, I wanted to look my best, alright?) an old tailor saw me.

"Ah, trying out some new clothes, young man? That makes me feel nostalgic" oh god, I found an exposition character. "I remember trying out clothes when I was your age, right before I joined the military-" I chuckled slightly.

"With all due respect, sir, I think I'm a bit younger than you think, I couldn't possibly join the military anytime soon." I said apologetically.

The old man frowned, "you seem to be 15 years of age, if I'm not mistaken?" I nodded, he smiled. "Why I do believe you owe me an apology. you could sign up your next birthday."

This time it was my turn to frown. "The enlistment age is 16?" I asked incredulously.

The man nodded. "It's been that way sense I was a young lad. Though I do wish they would change it... most young people aren't ready for war at that age." He finished sadly.

Of course a hyper-militaristic state would allow a younger enlistment age! They were probably expending large quantities of manpower daily!

"Im so sorry for my mistaken impression and somewhat insulting tone, sir. I hope you can forgive me." I said apologized profusely.

He smiled. "No offense was taken. Here, let me help you measure those clothes..."

...

After finishing my shopping, I had a strange feeling... I couldn't quite place why, or what feeling it even was for that matter... but I decided to take my mind of it.

A way was open for me: enlistment. My 16th birthday was on November 1st. I could join the military, and, if I was given my choice in which branch/station, find myself directly in the plot's trajectory pretty quick. I sighed, it was probably the best choice monetarily too, as my funds were not unlimited.

I continued walking back to the Hotel.

Though, I couldn't shake the strange feeling creeping into my spine, it almost felt as if I was being...

I turned my head around a little and immediately saw two figures in brown trench coats, fedoras and sunglasses, vaguely walking towards my direction.

I deadpanned, you have to be kidding me...

Jeez, you could be a little less obvious you know. I should walk around in zigzags to shake them off my trail before I headed back to the hotel.

———

"Do you think he noticed us?" Havoc whispered. I started fuming.

"Of course he noticed us! Are these really the most inconspicuous disguises you could find!?!" I whispered back.

"Well" Havoc started walking, "you said he's seen you before Fuery, so even if he notices he's followed he won't suspect that it's the military, because he can't see your face." He gave the most cocky grin I could ever imagine.

I nearly facepalmed "Havoc..." I began slowly. "If you were in, or sympathetic, to a terrorist organization. And someone started following you. Who would you think would be following you?"

Havoc snorted, "Well, the military of cours-" he nearly choked on his cigarette. "Point taken." He coughed.

———

Zig zagging, doubling back, running into alley ways. Nothing could shake these guys,

Who were these guys?

Serial killers? Eh, didn't seem like Serial killers would be as stupid to obviously tail someone. Then who could it be...

Military. I nearly facepalmed. Of course Hughes noticed me following him, he probably sent whoever those guys are to tail me.

Ross and Brosh perhaps? Team Mustang? Ugh, who knows.

Dang, if I wanted to join the military the last thing I needed to do was piss them off.

I dipped into another alleyway, praying that they stopped following me.

Then there was movement in my peripherial vision. Someone had just turned ahead of me into another alleyway, my curiosity was piqued. I followed him.

Catching glimpses of him as I walk through the nest of alleyways. Finally I turned a corner to...

be met face to face with a gun.

"Damn kid, should've minded your own business. The boss won't like this." The man spoke.

I felt a slamming sensation on the back of my skull. And I lost consciousness.

———————————————————————

**An: I'm new to writing fanfiction and I'm generally using this as an outlet to gain writing experience, reviews, criticism and any feedback would be appreciated. **

**Thanks for reading, Have a good one, folks!**


	3. Wreaking Havoc

Ugh... my head can't get a rest can it? First sensory overload, and now a gun to the back of the head, jeez.

"Hey kid, we got you some company." A load gruff voice said. God, far too loud. My skull practically felt as if it was getting pounded by the noise.

Two new voices grunted as they landed next to me, my vision was still kinda swimming so I couldnt exactly see what was going on.

A metal door shut loudly, ow.

I blinked. trying to rub my eyes only to realize my hands were tied behind my back. I looked to my right.

...

That's Jean Havoc and Kain Fuery.

...

What in Gods name are they doing here? Wait, were they the ones tailing me? Damn, I had led them right into a trap without realizing it.

I looked around the cell, it looked more like a back room of a storehouse than a cell honestly, with a single metal door which I assumed had a guard posted outside of it.

Havoc groaned and sat up. Looking around sheepishly for a few seconds.

"Fuery." He mumbled, "they took my cigarettes."

"Y-yeah Havoc, and I think they took some of my brain function, permanently." Fuery wheezed.

Havoc grunted. "They patted us down and took our weapons too." He sighed. And suddenly he saw me.

"Wait a second, your that kid we were following! But why did they lock you up with us?" He asked incredulously.

I winced, my skull was still pounding and the noise wasn't helping.

"Jeez, judging by the blood they took a number on your skull too. Did you betray them or something?"

"B-betray them?" I asked, my skull hurting more with every word. "H-how could I betray them when I don't even know who they are?" I grunted and sat up.

Havocs eyes shot up wide. "So you're not with Blue Squad, then how did you find there base?"

"I just saw one of there guys in an alley, and started following them because he kinda looked fishy." I said. The throbbing was feeling a bit less shitty now that I was sitting up.

"Why were you evading us then?" Fuery finally said something.

"Because two suspicious people in trench coats started tailing me. It was kinda unnerving? Also why were you tailing me in the first place?" I asked to confirm my suspicions.

"Because you tailed Lieutenant Colonel Hughes. Why did you do that, eh?" Havoc asked.

"Well..." time to pseudo-bullshit while sprinkling some truth in. "I want to join the military, and I've always wanted to work under the investigations department... so when I bumped into non other than Lieutenant Colonel Hughes all I could think was: 'why is he here and not in Central?' So I kinda... low-key stalked him..." Havoc and Fuery both had weirded out/concerned expressions on their faces. "Listen, I'll admit it was a bad idea, alright!?!"

Havoc sighed, "So this whole thing was a misunderstanding... seems this about sums up my current luck this week."

Fuery sighed, "Well then, what's our plan of action?"

...

"Wait till the Colonel notices were missing so he'll blow this whole place up?" Havoc suggested.

"We would either get blown up along with it, or used as hostages." Fuery deadpanned.

"It's not like we have any knifes with us to cut out of these restraints or anything."

Knifes...

Wait, did the guards pat me down before they threw me in the cell?

I moved my right hip a little bit, and sure as hell, I felt the telltale weight of the hidden knife.

But how would I get to it? My hands were tied behind my back.

Unless... what if I...

I bent over, trying to contort my my body in such a way so that the knife would slip out of its sheath...

"Uh kid, do we need to call for an exorcist?" Havoc said.

"Shut up" I growled, my head hurt to much to deal with this shit.

_Clink_

The knife fell out of its sheath and onto the floorboards.

Havoc and Fuery's jaws dropped.

"How the hell did you sneak that in!?!" Havoc said incredulously.

I grimaced. "They never thought to pat down the 15 year old."

I adjusted my body to grasp the knife and fumbled with the blade until I managed to slice the ropes with it, I had been expecting to have had to saw through it, but they knife cut through like it was butter. Nice.

Once I sliced the bindings on my ankles I went and did the same the same to Havoc and Fuery's bindings. Havoc got up and smiled.

"You seem to have some tricks up your sleeve, Rich," my eyebrow twitched at that nickname. "But let us professionals do the work from here." He turned to Fuery and exchanged a nod. Fuery held out his hand for the knife and I handed it to him.

Havoc went straight to the door and started yelling. "Hey! Anyone there!"

"Yeah, keep your voice down jackass! I'm trying to read here!" A gruff voice grunted back.

". . . Do you have a smoke?" Havoc asked innocently, Fuery facepalmed.

There was a pause.

"... Maybe, why should I give you one?"

"I'll promise to shut up?" Havoc pleaded.

The guard snorted, "Yeah, no thanks pal."

Havoc sighed dramatically. "Looks like we're doing this the hard way." He took a deep breath.

_"Oh I've got a lovely bunch of coconuts,_

_There allll standing in a row-"_

"Stop! Stop! God, anything but that song!" The guard all but screamed.

He opened the door.

Havocs arm shot out and dragged the man in inside and out a hand over his mouth, while Fuery walked up and slammed the living daylights out of him with the butt of the knife.

Havoc gently lowered the man, and said in a high pitched voice: "ok sweetie, be a good boy and survive for now, because if you live we can prosecute you!" The man groaned and Havoc patted him slightly on the head, chuckling.

Fuery sighed and collected the mans pistols and tossed one to Havoc, Havoc proceeded to immediately reach for the mans pockets, and pulled out a cigarette box and a lighter. "Hey, these are mine!" He looked over at the passed out man and spat on him. "On second thought you might as well die, scum." He lit a cigarette. Fuery just silently handed me back my knife with a resigned expression on his face.

After taking a second with his cigarette, with a look of pure bliss crossing his face before his eyebrows tightened and he looked at us seriously. "Alright, Rich? Fuery? Follow my lead and stay silent." He whispered as he slowly glanced out of the door. He took a couple steps out and waved his hand forward. I swallowed uncomfortably as we stepped in the hallway.

It was a tense walk, occasionally we dived into unoccupied side rooms to escape a hallway patrols notice. We eventually came across a large set of double doors. Intrigued, Havoc stepped in, followed soon after by Fuery and I.

The room was a lab, giant tanks of who-knows-what pumping into other tanks of god-knows-what. With several lab notes and scientific instruments scattered around the many desks. Finally there were huge vats of-

"Atherford's missing supply of chemical weapons, that's nice to know." Havoc muttered. Glaring at the vats as if they had done him some brevity's insult.

Lord have mercy, the very smell of the room made me feel sick.

"It seems there trying to replicate and study it, judging by some of the circles over here they seem to have an alchemist studying Atherfords materials." Fuery muttered.

I glanced at the notes... suprised to find regular old chemical equations and chemical balancing. With plenty of notes on the subject of Atherfords poisonous gases... most were encrypted to look like recipes, yet a few looked had yet to recover that treatment. It seemed as if alchemical circles were merely illustrated information about chemical reactions and equations.

"We need to get back to the Colonel to inform him of thi-" Havocs eyes widened. "Duck for cover!"

We jumped out of the way just in time to dodge some bullets that zipped straight where our faces had been moments prior.

Fuery and Havoc checked their guns. "One clip each." Fuery stated.

Havoc peeked over the top of the table we were hiding behind, only to immediately duck before he could get his head blown off. "24 shots for us in total... eh?" He glanced at Fuery. "8 of them, I got the ones on the left you got the ones on the right?"

"Yes sir!" Fuery said.

"Oh, uh Rich." He looked at me. "Don't get your head blown off, you're a key witness." He winked.

"1, 2, 3!" They jumped out of cover and fired 8 shots each. Before getting back behind the table.

"I got all 4" Havoc said.

"One more" Fuery said, and reached over and fired another shot. "All 4."

"Now run for the exit!" Havoc yelled.

We sprinted as fast as we could to the doorway we could see, occasionally hearing a shot or two from behind us. We entered a long hallway and kept running.

We had to duck into a side room when more gunman appeared at the end of the hall. Havoc swore,

"We don't have enough bullets for all of them." He grunted, Fuery was panting from our run. I was too, I looked at Havoc, he seemed genuinely exhausted as well and was keeping his eyes glued to the doorway, wait... was that steel behind him-

"Havoc get down!" I yelled. I tackled his would be knife-murderer and grappled the knife out of his hand before knocking him out with a solid punch in the face.

"Agh, god..." Havoc swore, clutching his left shoulder as it bled from his knife wound, luckily the wound appeared shallow on closer inspection. Fuery was standing guard at the doorway now while I checked on Havoc's injuries. I felt myself start to feel uneven, that tumble in the ground and our running caused my head to feel like it was getting cracked open with a hammer. Fuery fired more shots until his gun was making clicking noises. He grabbed Havocs gun and fired some more. While I attempted to staunch the bleeding.

"They're closing in! I don't think we can hold them for much-"

**FWOOSH**

I felt a huge wave of heat slam us from the hall. Flames roaring past us and and burning our assailants alive. The constant heat continued as We held up our arms in front of our faces in a desperate attempt to keep ourselves safe from the heat.

When the flames were done, a man stepped in cautiously, using an arm hand to lower Fuery's gun and looked at Havoc, and then he looked at me. His dark eyes widened, then narrowed not half a second later.

"So you're Eric Richter I presume?" The black haired man stated in a calm, suave voice.

I weakly nodded, and passed out, the head injury finally rendering me unconcious.

———————————————————————

** An: yeah another "losing consciousness after the action." Chapter, I'm sorry.**

**Also thank you to my first reviewers!**

**Dindagangleader: I hope I can make something that's enjoyable to read too.**

**Shadowheart: Thanks for pointing out the typo! ****And thanks for the compliment! This is actually my 2nd published fanfiction... I wouldn't recommend the other one as I'm kinda self-conscious about how poor the writing quality is in comparison to this one lol.**

**Thank y'all again for reviewing.**

**Have a good one, folks!**


	4. Interrogation, and an offer

I woke up to a white ceiling. I attempted to turn my head to look around, but stopped due to the sharp pain in my head.

Concussion? Almost definitely.

I sat there, remembering the recent events that had taken place.

I went back to sleep.

—[—]—

"So he saved your life, Correct?" I asked. Havoc nodded.

We were in my office, writing an extensive report on yesterday's events.

Yesterday... that had been hectic to say the least.

First of all, Riza Hawkeye turned up with no clue who 'Eric Richter' even was. His name was never filed in the Eastern area's records. We assumed it was an alias, but judging from Havoc and Fuery's testimonies... the kid seemed strange, but not really a threat, or a liar for that matter. I would need to question him when he woke up.

Then Fuery and Havoc didn't check in at the scheduled time, that was worrying, and I immediately dispatched the rest of the team to find them.

It didn't take long for us to find a story of some suspicious individuals dressed in brown trench coats chasing a minor through an alleyway. What were those idiots thinking!

We followed their tracks until they ran cold. Only for Hughes to show up and inform us his agents had decrypted the location of the compound based on Atherford's notes.

We proceeded to burst down the doors of the compound to find a fire fight in progress, I quickly responded with my signature alchemy and removed the hostiles. Finding my soldiers, And Richter, had been pinned into a side room.

We managed to capture or kill all suspects, save a few that escaped using the winding alleys and back exits to their advantage. Though we did accomplish our main goal of finding and securing the chemical weapons, and destroy any attempts at replicating them.

All-in-all, with the exception of a few blunders. The mission was a swimming success.

_'And,'_ as Hughes had whispered privately to me earlier._ 'The higher-ups will notice you covered their asses, after they let such a high profile irregularity occur without faster investigation' _I grinned inwardly at the thought, Hughes was truly my greatest ally...

"So... the kid alright?" Havoc asked non-chalantly, breaking my train of thought. He was rubbing the bandage on his shoulder.

I shuffled some papers around until I found his medical report. "Concussion, slight burns on side of face and arms. Various cuts, bruises, etc. the kid will be in the hospital for a few days, but he'll recover just fine." I noticed Havoc's tense shoulders relax slightly.

"That's good, didn't want him permanently injured due to my silly lack of awareness" Havoc said.

I gave a small smile, "Remind me not to trust you with children again, I don't want them missing any limbs when you're through watching them."

Havoc snorted, "At least I wouldn't burn them to a crisp as soon as I got annoyed."

My eyes narrowed, "I'll have you know I've built up quite a lot of patience dealing with Fullmetal the past few years."

Fuery perked up at the mention of the Elric brother. "Speaking of Fullmetal, he hasn't reported to base in awhile, do you know where he is?"

I sighed. "He's clearing up some buisness in a town called 'Xenotime', apparently some random local alchemist was claiming his identity." That brat was always getting into trouble of some sort.

"Hmph, did Lt. Colonel Hughes leave already?" Havoc asked.

"He left this morning." Riza said as she entered the room. "He also left a team to investigate the remainder of the situation, but he has important buisness back in Central. Colonel," Riza turned to me and saluted. "The hospital called to inform you that Eric Richter is awake." Perfect timing.

I sighed and got up, happy for the excuse to ignore paperwork, "let's go pay him a visit then, shall we Lieutenant?" Riza merely nodded in affirmation.

—[—]—

Ah, water... pure bliss on a dry throat.

I had woken up again to the same white ceiling, only this time to be greeted by a nurse who was adjusting my blankets.

She was quite helpful and brought me breakfast and more importantly, water.

Apparently I had been unconscious since yesterday night when I was brought into the hospital by the military.

A doctor came in to examine me a bit later, giving me a brief medical rundown on my current health. And also a analysis on when I was allowed to leave the Hospital... there were complications.

Apparently Havoc hadn't been kidding about my 'Key witness' status, they had positioned 2 guards outside my hospital room's door, and were going to keep me here until the trial was completed.

I finished my glass of water and leaned back into my pillow with a sigh of relief. Hospital rooms were great.

I heard a noise outside, some people were talking. But I couldn't quite make out the words or the tone.

My door opened, and in stepped Colonel Mustang.

Welp, here comes the inevitable interrogation.

He was followed by Riza Hawkeye, who true to the anime, was a lot more intimidating than the Flame Alchemist. Especially when you considered the four plus guns she had hidden away on her person.

"I see you're awake." Mustang said, "I assume you know who I am?" I causitiously nodded.

"You're the Flame Alchemist, Roy Mustang?" I pretended to guess.

"Correct." He seemed to be smirking slightly at his recognition, maybe I should've pretended not to know who he was... would've screwed with his ego, that's for sure.

He proceeded to go into full military speech mode.

"Now if you don't mind" translation: I don't care if you do mind. "we have some questions we would like you to answer." Translation: answer these questions or you will be thrown into prison.

...

At least the tone he put it in was somewhat pleasant.

Like sugar coated poison.

I swallowed, my throat felt dry again. "Yes sir." I answered.

He pulled up a visitors chair and sat down, Ms. Hawkeye opened up a notebook and taking out a pen.

"Alright, question one." He looked me in the eyes. "Recount everything you did on the day October 17th."

That was more of an order than a question... eh, I cleared my throat.

"I was woken up by Mr. Fuery in an alley that morning, I don't remember exactly how I got there." Mustangs eyes narrowed. "I talked with Mr. Fuery for a bit before he ran off to work, I proceeded to go find a hotel to stay at. The hotel I found was called '3rd street Inn' if I recall correctly. After checking in I went on my way to get breakfast before I ran into... a Lieutenat Colonel." I said the last part carefully.

Roy's eyes narrowed more. "And then?"

"I was kind of curious as to why there was such a high-ranking military officer walking around... so I followed him." I said, quite embarrassed at myself in hindsight.

"How were you aware of his rank?" Roy was actively glaring at me now.

"My father was in the military, I read his stripes." _Just not in the Amestrian one..._

"And where is your father now?" He pressed.

"He's... He's not with me anymore." I intentionally phrased that ambiguously. After all, my father was probably back at home, but did Mustang need to know that?

"... I see." Mustang's expression softened a bit after that, it seems like he took that phrase to mean my father was dead. "And your mother?"

...

"She died when I was younger." I said.

"Any surviving family?"

"None that I know of in Amestris." One set of grandparents was still alive back home though.

"Where were you born?"

Crap, think! Just list a random hillbilly town from one of the anime's...

"Xenotime, it's a mining town." I said. One of Roy's eyebrows quirked. It was the wrong anime, but I hoped it exsisted in this timeline too.

There was a pause, finally Roy sighed and dropped the glare.

"Sorry for the digression, please continue your account of yesterday."

I continued my story without lying. When I got to the part where I noticed Havoc and Fuery following me the Colonel facepalmed.

"Idiots..." he muttered. And then he straightened up. "I'm sorry, please continue."

I kept telling my story, trying not to laugh as Mustangs facial expressions kept twitching. When I had finished, the Colonel turned to Hawkeye.

"Did you get that written down?" He asked.

"Yes sir." She responded in an even tone.

Mustang turned back towards me.

"What is your full name?"

"Eric Ezekiel Richter." I answered.

"Age?"

"15"

"Occupation?"

"Unemployed."

"Date of birth?"

"November 1st."

"Can you explain why you don't have a birth certificate?"

"There weren't any offices capable of handling such requests when I was born."

"Name of father?"

"John Arthur Richter."

Roy glanced at Riza.

"Can you describe your late fathers physical description?" She asked.

Oh shit, they were probably going to look for his non-exsistant military files. Awwwww crap.

Welp honesty is the best policy.

"6'1, similar facial features, and hair, to me?" I answered.

She stared at me a moment, before turning her attention to Roy.

"That matches the description of one of the only 'Richter' files I could find, Sir." Hawkeye said.

...

I am the luckiest man alive. God bless me and my fathers generic features.

Or was Truth pulling some strings... wait, maybe his 'counterpart' handpicked me because I matched that discription? Perhaps this wasn't luck, but rather a long-term master plan of Truth's design? Ugh, just thinking about this was making my head spin.

Mustang at least had the decency to look as suprised as I felt.

"Well you're not a liar, Mr. Richter." He said carefully. "Your name isn't an alias, and your report of things matches Havoc's and Fuery's. Albeit the circumstances you got there in the first place are... coincidental..."

He looked at me. "We recovered your suitcase and weapon from the Blue Squad compound, can you explain where you got such a... interesting knife?"

"It was my fathers." I lied. "I'm not sure where he got it in the first place."

Mustang just stared at me. Before standing up. "You said you wish to join the military, correct?" I nodded. "In that case it would be best for you to stay out of trouble. It would look bad on your record for something like this to happen again."

"Yes sir." I answered.

"Thank you for answering our questions. Just so you know your testimony will be used to prosecute the captured members of Blue Squad. Lieutenant?" He turned to Hawkeye. She nodded and she left. The Colonel followed her, but paused before exiting.

"And thank you for saving Lieutenant Havoc's life." He said, and then left.

I sat there. Knowing what I said here could permanently screw me up if I had said something incorrect. I rested against my pillows, slowly letting go of my nervousness and falling asleep.

—[—]—

"I don't trust him." I said to Hawkeye as we walked down the long hallways of the Hospital. "Yet he didn't say anything incorrect, and he didn't do anything... wrong."

"Other than stalking Colonel Hughes?" Hawkeye replied.

"You remember what Havoc and Fuery said, he has some strange hero-worshipping going on there. It was harmless, even if it was incredibly stupid."

"Very well, Sir."

We continued walking in silence.

I sighed. "If I can't shake off this bad feeling by tonight it's going to ruin my date." Riza glanced at me.

"I know for a fact you have paperwork lined up for the rest of the day _and _night, Sir." It sounded like an expressionless comment, but I knew better. Behind her expressionless face was a murderous intent.

"Guess I have to cancel..." I grumbled. Fearing slightly for my life.

—[—]—

I woke up to a white ceiling, again.

The doctor came to visit me and told me I only needed a few more days in the hospital, After that I could be released, if the military permitted.

My suitcase was returned to me, with all the items I bought, and had before, had remained in good condition.

9 days later, on October 28th.

The guards who were stationed outside of my cell told me my release had be authorized by Mustang. And that I was to see him in his office immediately.

I dressed in some of my newer clothes, so didn't stick out like a sore thumb among the crowd.

As soon as I left the hospital I heard a horn honk. I looked over to the street and saw non-other than Lieutenant Havoc sitting in his parked car, waving at me. I smiled and got in the passenger side.

"What's up Rich?" I winced at the nickname. "Haven't seen you in awhile." He winked.

"Likewise. Could you not call me 'Rich' though?"

"Sure thing... Rich" he gave a cocky side smile, causing me to let out a reluctant chuckle.

He started driving. "We conducted a quick trial," He started "using your testimony in absentia." That sounded highly like a made up law "All the captured extremists were convicted." Executed.

"I see... well good thing I don't have to appear in court." I said.

Havoc snorted. "Didn't need to, we just handed this facts into the Military Police and they took care of it." Oh, you have to be kidding me. How could they be this _blatantly_ corrupt and no one notice?

Oh right, Military state, No civilian oversight, basically an allegory for WW2 era Japan and Germany. Fair enough.

"Alright, anything interesting happen while I was out of action?" I asked.

He grinned more, "'out of action?' You're starting to sound like a soldier already." He reached over to ruffle my hair.

"Both hands on the wheel." I said icily as I dodged the hand.

"And now you're sounding like an officer." He grumbled good-naturedly. I simply smiled and looked out the window, watching the streets go past.

"Oh! To answer your question." Havoc suddenly said. I looked at him. "You'll find out in a bit." He winked. My attentive expression closed into a glare.

Once we reached Eastern Command, Havoc began to escort me to Colonel Mustangs office. Winding through hallways and stairs until we reached the 2nd floor all the way to the back.

He walked into the room which I knew to be Team Mustangs room just by looking at it. All of the guys were there. Breda, Farman, Fuery (I gave a slight wave.) and Hawkeye. Havoc walked up to Hawkeye and started to say-

"OH COME ON YOU BASTARD**, **YOU DIDNT TELL US THERE WERE POTENTIAL MURDERERS THERE!" A angry high pitched voice boomed from the Colonels office. Causing me to jump in alarm.

"Brother, you should calm-" a very young voice said.

"CALM?!? THIS IDIOT ALMOST GOT US KILLED AND YOU WANT ME TO BE CALM-"

"You need to work on your short temper, Edwar-"

"WHO ARE YOU CALLING SO SHORT THAT THEY COULDNT EVEN COMPARE TO THE SIZE OF A SHRIMP-"

Havoc slammed the door open. "Hey boss!" He cheerfully shouted. He turned to a short blonde kid in the room "Hey chief! How's it going down there!"

"YOU SENTIENT ASH-TRAY- AUUGH." A suit of armor appeared out of nowhere to restrain him.

"Let me go Al! I need to pummel his face-mmphhmmmm!" He was cut off by the suit of armor covering his face.

"Brother. You need to calm down." The suit of armor spoke in its childlike voice.

Yep, these were the Elric brothers alright.

"Oh, I brought the other kid, Colonel." Havoc said non-chalantly, completely ignoring Ed's muffled yelling.

Mustang smiled. "Ah perfect, Eric Richter, this is The Fullmetal Alchemist, Edward Elric, and his brother, Alphonse Elric." He gestured towards the still struggling Edward. "They just came back from visiting... oh yes. Xenotime, was it?" Wait shit, that episode happened in this timeline? Wait, nothing about Red-Stones should appear in the 2009 timeline- wait, this was a ploy to see how much I knew about my supposed hometown, wasn't it?

Damn you, Mustang. You're one suspicious man.

Edward was finally let go and started dusting his arms off. "Yeah, and those crazy bastards tried to murder us when they thought some two-bit con-artists were us! Can you believe it!-"

"Mr. Richter is a resident of Xenotime." Mustang said smugly.

Ed's eyes widened.

"This is why you shouldn't run your mouth, Brother." Al said accusingly. Ed opened his mouth to retort-

"What were you doing there, if I may ask?" I cut him off.

Ed looked annoyed at the cut-off, but decided to answer my question anyways. "Hunting the Philosophers stone, rumor had it some alchemist named Mugear was in possession-"

"Mugear? The mine owner?" I asked, using my somewhat limited memory of the 2003 episode to good use. This second interruption served in annoying Edward even more.

"Yeah, He apparently employed the help of the 'Elric Brothers' a.k.a, a couple of somewhat skilled young blonde alchemists. To try to create a philosophers stone. But it only turned out to be some phony stone that cracked after a couple of uses of amplifying alchemy-" Oh, like father Cornello's ring... I see the red water not exsisting in this timeline was still true. I realized I had missed most of Ed's story. "-so we beat him up and got him arrested." Ed finished.

"Huh, well thanks. Mugear was kind of a jerk. Everyone was kind of sure he was committing tax fraud, we just didn't have any proof." I added that little unsourced tidbit just to make it seem like I was acquainted with local rumors. "Kinda weird to think my town got so interesting after I left. Almost makes me wish I'd stayed." I gave a half-hearted chuckle.

"Ah, well," Mustang suddenly stated, he seemed... disappointed? Wait, was he actually hoping I would get caught out in a lie so he could roast me like chicken!?! "I don't currently have any rumors for you, Fullmetal. Though I will try to see if I can find some more random towns for you to visit..."

"No thanks, something's wrong with my left leg, so I need to see my mechanic." Ed replied quickly, "Come on Al, we need to get a train." They started leaving.

"I might get a room to stay for tonight if I were you," Colonel Mustang called after him. "all southbound trains got canceled due to a bridge failure." Edward paused, swore some of the vilest blasphemies against God I've ever heard, and left.

Havoc clapped me on the back. "So how was meeting the Fullmetal Alchemist?" He asked.

"... unexpected, but quite entertaining." I answered after a short delay.

Mustang cleared his throat. "Havoc, may I speak to Richter in private?"

"Sure thing boss." Havoc lazily closed the door behind him.

I turned to Mustang, then sun shone through the windows behind his back. Illuminating his sitting form. Leaning over his desk, with his hands in front of his mouth. Leaving only his eyes visible.

"Richter, I don't trust you." He said simply.

I raised an eyebrow. "Any reason in particular, Colonel Mustang?"

"You give me a bad feeling." He said dryly.

"... That's all, Sir?" I said skeptically.

"..." he didn't respond.

"Is there something I can do to gain your trust, Sir?" I asked.

"Why would you want my trust to begin with, Richter?"

"It would be bad for me to join the military while having a enemy in the higher-ups, Sir." And we'll hopefully be working closely, I added to myself.

His eyes narrowed. And then he sighed. Opening one of his desk drawers. I was expecting for him to pull out his alchemy gloves to burn me, but instead he pulled out a stack of paper.

"Go to the recruitment offices on the first floor after you've turned 16" he said. Handing me the stack of papers. "This is your new birth certificate, your hospital release forms, and lastly," he handed me a letter instead of an envelope. It was gilded around the edges, and had Mustangs signature on it. "A letter of recommendation to the officer's crash course."

"Officer's crash course?" I asked. Stunned by the generosity.

"A special military course that will let you become a low-ranking officer in a few months. It's usually used to get children of higher ups on the military track."

What.

"So it's purpose is explicitly for nepotism, Sir?"

"... you could say that." He gave a slight smirk. "There's one condition on me giving you that letter, however"

Equivalent exchange, I guess... "and that would be... ?" The Colonel sat back in his chair.

"You'll serve under my command directly once you pass." He said. "And you will pass, I'll not be embarrassed by having my sponsored trainee drop out of such a course. If you follow these orders, you'll gain my trust. Got it?" He ordered.

...

Are you kidding me? This has to be the luckiest day of my life.

"I accept."

Mustang gave a cocky smirk.

"Very well. Mr. Richter. You are dismissed."

Even though I was grinning on the inside, I couldn't help but feel I had missed something. Something important...

Oh well, it's probably nothing.

———————————————————————

**An: Fullmetal Jacket time- just kidding, I'll try to make sure the military training sideplot doesn't last 10 chapters or something ridiculous, on another note. I feel like I made Mustang a little unthreatening this chapter. If I did, I apologize and I'll try to rectify it later.**

**As for reviews:**

**Guest: hm... maybe, I'm not sure how I feel about Richter learning alchemy... but I'll keep that idea in mind.**

**Shadowheart: It's fine lol, I make random guesses like that all the time too. I'm glad to know I'm getting the details right. (So far)**

**Thank you all for reading. Have a good one, folks!**


	5. Enlisting for success!

The sun began to shine over the horizon, its soft rays of light waking me up from my slumber.

It had been 4 days.

Today was November 1st,

Today was the day I would enlist.

I got out of bed, dressed, double checked my paperwork. And set out for the recruiting office, on the first floor of Eastern Command.

The walk was hectic, men and woman crowded the streets, pushing past each other on their rush to work. I was jostled from all sides by these busy people. Though it did little to effect the anxious pit forming in my gut, eating away at my nerves and causing me to ocassionally shiver in nervous anticipation.

I arrived at Eastern Command, along with a good chunk of military members on their way to work, they barely gave me a glance before heading off to do their jobs.

I walked into the building, greeted by a bored woman in military uniform.

I got directions to the recruitment offices, my heart pounding heavily in my chest. When I finally reached the door, I was merely greeted by another bored looking woman in uniform. She ways also smoking a cigarette, filling the whole room with a smoky odor.

"Here to join up, sonny?" My eyebrow twitched at the 'sonny' comment. This woman was barely 10 years older than me at most.

"Yes ma'am."

"Name?"

"Eric Richter."

"Date of birth?"

"November 1st, 1897"

"Proof of age?"

"Right here." I handed her my birth certificate. She skimmed through it, and placed it behind her desk. She grabbed a different piece of paper.

"Alright, this is your contract for military service and bootcamp, just sign here... do you have a question?" She noticed my furrowed eyebrows.

"Ah, well you see, I also have this..." I handed her my letter of introduction.

She rolled her eyebrows in annoyance, looked at the piece of paper, and proceeded to choke on her cigarette.

"_Cough! _E-Excuse me, I'll need to contact a higher officer for this." She turned to the door behind her and pounded on it. "Staff Sargeant Leman! We got a special one."

A talll man quickly opened the door, give me a quick up and down inspection, took my letter from the reciting officer, raised an eyebrow. And gestured for me to come in his office.

"Thank you, Marigold, I'll handle it from here, though bring me his birth certificate." The man spoke. 'Marigold' handed him my paperwork, and he gestured for me to enter again, I walked into his office.

He closed the door behind us, his office was a rather clean affair, with a desk and two chairs. "Take a seat, Mr. Richter." Leman said as he set the paperwork down.

I sat down, the Sargeant sitting in the chair opposite to me, and looking over the letter oncemore.

"From what the letter reads, you will be put through the Officer's crash course, and receive the rank of Sargeant upon graduation, correct?" He gave me a rather cutting look.

"Yes, Sir." I said evenly. He opened a desk cabinet and pulled out a form.

"Alright, here's some different paperwork. Read it over and sign at the bottom." I did as I was asked (ordered?) and started reading. The uncomfortable silence that followed was compounded by his stare.

"If you don't mind me asking, Mr. Richter, what exactly did you think Col. Mustang mean in his comment about your 'outstanding usefulness' to his job?" Ah, I see he wanted to interrogate me as well, oh joy.

"I saved the life of one of his subordinates, and provided the only non-military witness testimony to a case he was working on." I answered carefully.

"So you were the one from the Blue Squad incident... interesting." He went back to staring at me some more.

I finished reading and signed the form in the best cursive I could muster. (Thank god they used English here, being illiterate might've detrimentally effected my options.)

He took the form and signed right underneath my signature. And put it into a folder, along with my birth certificate and letter of introduction, and files it into a different cabinet. Before turning back to me.

"In order to participate in the Officers Crash Course, you'll be training in central until completion of the curriculum. Are you ok with that?" Oh, now that's interesting. I nodded I affirmation.

"Congratulations, Mr. Richter, you are now a member of the Amestrian armed forces." Sargeant Leman said.

... I still wasn't sure how I felt about that, but it did sound better than 'dog of the military'.

———

Basic training started 2 days later, in the morning.

The trip from central to east city wasn't that bad. It took about 9 hours including a couple of stops on the inbetween towns.

I had moved into my new bunk, in one of the small military barracks directly outside of town, the two roommates I saw seemed normal enough, one was tall and lean whereas the other was a stockier guy. Both gave me weird looks, but didn't say anything.

My roommates seemed to practically forget my exsistance after the first hour, allowing me to receive my new uniform, eat supper, and get ready for bed without causing any trouble.

The sleeping rooms were essentially dormrooms, each of them containing two sets of bunk beds and not much else, all of these apartments lead to a central mess hall, which promptly lead outside to the training grounds.

Quite spartan.

I was sitting on the lower of two bunk beds, getting ready to go to bed, when a tall, short haired blonde walked into the room, and looked right at me.

"Are you Richter?" He asked in a suprisingly deep voice.

"Yes, and you are?" I asked, wondering if this encounter would end up with me getting pulverized.

"Wyland Strauss, Im your bunkmate."

"Nice to meat you, Strauss."

He gestured to the two other guys in the room, "that's Sherman," he said pointing at the skinnier fellow. "And that's Abrams." He pointed at the stockier compatriot. He held out an arm, I shook it.

"Wake up calls at 6:00 sharp, alright?" I nodded again.

"Thank you."

With that, I clambered into bed and went asleep.

—[—]—

"You know, I haven't seen the kid in a few days." I said, playing with my lighter.

Fuery shuffles his papers away from the open flame. "You mean Richter? He's probably skipped town or got a job, besides, why would he need to go to base everyday? It's not like he's part of the military or anything." I sighed.

"_Cough!" _Everyone in the office turnt to Lieutenant Hawkeye, who was covering her mouth.

"... you ok there, boss?" I asked, completely bewildered that she had shown some form of human weakness in front of us.

"Yes, now stop playing with that lighter and get back to work, Havoc." She said sternly.

"Whatever you say..." I turnt to the paperwork at hand.

—[—]—

So, bootcamp wasn't that bad.

I guess it was mainly due to my father already having put me on a similar morning routine, the drills and basic exercise were quite easy. Though I was decently winded after we finished.

Our instructor, Lieutenant McKynes, was an elderly gentleman with a rather fashionable handlebar mustache. Who constantly complained about our 'youthful arrogance.' And 'spoiled ignorance' through the lense of 'back in his day.'

He ended beating a lot of people up with his cane for backtalking. So I wisely kept my mouth shut.

After going through hand-to-hand combat drills and shooting drills. (I ended up being very good at the former, especially with knifes.) we began Officer classes, essentially telling us how to command people, and proper military proceedure. who we ate dinner, showered, and headed off to bed. Rinse and repeat the next couple of days.

It wasn't all work, though. I found out a bit more about my roommates during our free time.

Sherman was the son of Arnold H. Sherman II, a wealthy retired Lt. Colonel who served with distinction in Ishval. From his impeculate manners to his preferred choice drink of tea, Sherman was a born and bred aristocrat. And also rather quiet.

On the flip side, Abrams was the son of John 'Mad Jack' Abrams, an apparent war hero in the southern conflict with Aerugo. Which as a country was never really brought up in the anime, best I could figure out they seemed similar to the Fascist Italy during the Second World War, albeit with a _much _better military record. They were famous for their elite 'Alpini' troops being so good that a good chunk of state alchemists were deployed south specifically to deal with them, though Mad Jack himself was apparently just some crazy Colonel who rose his way through ranks by being a suicidal maniac with a penchant for outlasting his compatriots, which was neat. Abrams also swore a lot, to Sherman's chagrin.

Then their was Wyland Strauss, Strauss's father was Brigadier General Johann Strauss, a member of Central Command, the head military honcho's who were aware of, and supported, Fathers goal of turning the nation into a philosophers stone...

Yeah I hoped Wyland himself wasn't aware of that plot, because he was actually quite a helpful and relaxed person, and I would hate for him to die.

The important thing here was that I was making high profile connections, which could probably help me if I ever needed some discreet information or support from way up high the food chain.

Eventually, on the 7th day of training I was called to the office of Lieutenant McKynes.

"Oh Mother Mary, what did I do..." I swore under my breath as I looked at the note.

Strauss came and looked it over, and gave a smile.

"Your fine, he calls all his soldiers to his office early on to discuss specializations and career paths."

Specializations? Huh, now that I think about it, Fuery was supposed to specifically be a tech-guy, wasn't he.

"Also, who's 'Mother Mary?'" Strauss asked. Ah shit, I swore using the name of a Christian saint.

"Local legend from back home." I responded quickly. I had learned the militaries... track record with religions. (Half of the enemy groups we covered in class were oppressed religious minorities) and the last thing I needed was a higher-up figuring out I believed in god.

I headed to the office. Hoping it was really specializations we would cover, and not something else...

I knocked on the Lieutenant's office door.

"Come in" I heard McKynes voice say.

I walked into the room and... well it was an interesting change of pace from the usually spartan decoration.

The walls were adorned with scenic paintings of landscapes, and one depicting the Sargeant himself next to a hunting dog. A beautiful window over viewing the countryside inbetween the barracks and central city proper.

There was a soft carpet and a well furnished desk, with McKynes sitting in a comfortable armchair behind it.

McKynes was a short old man, with a bushy mustache and and a good head of what always seemed to be permenantly comed hair. Usually his face was tightened into a judging frown, but his expression was actually somewhat amiable at the moment.

He looked up from a book he was reading. "Ah, Private Richter! Please, have a seat." He gestured to the empty chair opposite of his. I took my place.

"Thank you, Sir." I said. The chair was indeed far more comfortable than my own bed.

"Now, Private, it's come to my attention you came on a merited letter of introduction?" I cocked his head to the side.

Huh?

"Um, I'm afraid I don't quite know what you mean by 'Merited' Sir." I answered respectfully, only to be shocked by him giving a hearty chuckle.

"Most of the lads in the programme don't either, I'm afraid to say. It means that you weren't giving that letter due to any nepotistic reasoning on your sponsor's behalf." Oh, I see.

"Then that would be true, Sir." I answered confidentially.

He nodded. "Now, when do you intend to graduate?" My eyes widened.

"I have a choice as to when I can?" The Sargeant chuckled oncemore.

"You really don't know anything, do you?" I rubbed the back of my head sheepishly. He chuckled again. "My, my, I guess I must explain from the start."

"In this course our goal is to make sure you aspirants learn everything you need to know mas fast as possible. To make sure you stay motivated, we let you take the graduation exam anytime you ask. As a trade-off, it's hard as nails." He looked at me. "So, when do you plan on graduating?"

I thought about it, the earlier I graduated the earlier I could insert myself into the FMA plotline. I wasn't quite sure when the first episode would happen, so the earlier I could get in, the earlier I could figure out who or what was messing up the timeline.

"3 months, I aim to graduate in 3 months."

McKynes eyebrows rose, "3 months? That's entirely doable," he leaned closer to me. "If your willing to work your ass off."

I nodded. "That I am, Sir."

He cracked a crazy grin. "Excellent! I hope you can follow up your words with action! Now," he brought out a paper and handed it to me.

"This is a list of specializations, some are more intensive than others, but if you plan on graduating in 3 months time I would suggest only picking two or less. But do take your time, and ask any questions you need of me."

I looked through the sheet of paper... a few specializations stuck out (investigations being one of them.) but the one I thought was really interesting...

"Sir," My Sargeant look at me. "I think I would like to specialize in knives."

His eyebrows raised. "Knives are hard to learn, and even harder to master, yet I've seen your skills with the weapon first hand during drills." While I have no proof, I'm blaming Havoc for that. "So if you've already trained in them to a good extant, pursuing them for military work might be a good idea. Any other specialization you are considering?"

Considering my gate-gained combat knowledge I'm pretty sure 3 months of knife training would make me a decent fighter. Which might level the playing field in regards to my enemies.

I looked through the remaining specializations... none of them would really be useful to me. And then, at the very bottom.

"Sir, what is the 'Zählerchemiker' specialization?"

McKynes face went from thoughtful to a dead serious expression in a heartbeat.

"The Zählerchemiker specialization is a foolish death trap, every man who managed to pass its tests died soon after deployment. Pick something else." He practically ordered.

"May I at least know what it is, Sir?" I pressed.

He was silent for awhile, and then sighed. And looked out the window to his right.

"There's really no set curriculum for it, it was created by General Basque Grand in hopes of creating an Anti-Alchemist company, but as I have said, the casualty rate was too high for that to be feasible. If you decided to chase this path, it's up to you to research current renegade State Alchemists, alchemical murders. and to understand, and possibly learn how to use, Alchemy." He turned his head sharply towards me. "It will also make your test a hell of a lot harder then it already is going to be at your rate."

...

"So it's anti-Alchemist training?"

"Yes."

I might not pass if I list it...

...

But then again, it would give me a valid excuse to learn alchemy...

...

McKynes sighed, breaking the silence.

"You're going to sign up for it, aren't you?"

...

It was the only way to level the playing field.

"Yes, Sir."

"Very well, you are dismissed." I got out of my seat, saluted, and left for the door.

"Oh, Private." McKynes called. Stopping me midstride.

"Yes sir?"

"While I don't support your choice, it is in both of our best interests for you to be diligent in the pursuit of your goal. Remember that." He said.

"I see, I'll make sure I don't fail, then."

"Start your alchemical research in Central Library, I'll make sure to grant you what clearance I can provide."

That... wait, really?

"T-Thank you, Sir!" Not really believing how generous he was being.

"Just don't fail, alright?"

"Yes Sir!"

From that day onward I had nothing but respect for Sargeant McKynes.

———————————————————————

**An: I'm sorry this took so long, I basically wrote chapter 5, decided I didn't like it, rewrote it over and over. Until I gave up and just wrote a different chapter entirely.**

**Anyways, as for reviews (oh god there's three because it's been a week since I uploaded oh god):**

**Shadowheart: I also lurk a lot during midnight, I mostly write around midnight too, my brain can't rest until it's like 1 o'clock for some reason lol.**

**Brunolmg: Thank you! It's always nice to hear people are looking forward to my writing.**

**Vendre: Richter's gate... essentially, what I'm saying is that the gate expands knowledge that you _already know_. Meaning that due to Richter not knowing any alchemy when he first went through it, he didn't learn any alchemy. However what he did learn was knowledge relating to things he already knew a bit about (combat technique, increased reflexes, etc. etc.) as for alchemy... yeah, he won't become some super genius or anything. But he'll learn a bit.**

**Thanks for reading! Reviews are always appreciated.**

**Have a good one, folks!**


	6. Break-fight

_December 2nd, 1913._

First thing I felt waking up was the jarring sensation of water slamming into my face.

"What the-" I sputtered, rubbing my eyes and coughing a little.

"Richter, why are you sleeping on the training grounds?" A familiar voice rang out from above me.

I looked up to see none other than Strauss looking at me, his expression serious. I looked around at my surroundings, suddenly realizing that I was, in fact, sleeping on the army training grounds.

"Uhhh, I guess I fell asleep practicing..." I replied sheepishly. Glancing at the throwing knifes strewn across the grounds.

Strauss's expression remained judgmental, before letting out an exhausted sigh.

"Richter, this is the 3rd time i've found you dead asleep 'practicing' this week, not to mention the 5 times I've found you drooling over those alchemy books you've been studying." His expression shifted back into a glare. "If you keep this up, your going to kill yourself from exhaustion."

"H-hey! It's not my fault I-" But Strauss cut me off.

"That you picked the hardest specialization available, and are currently training like a maniac trying to achieve it? Richter, you've put yourself in this situation, admit it." He ordered.

". . . Ok," I reluctantly let out. "I've been training to hard, I'll cut back. I swear."

"That's what you said the last three times we've had this conversation. Cut the bullshit, Richter!" He snapped with the authority of a Field Marshal, causing me to jump back a little.

Had I? I've given this excuse what, three times? I don't remember that-

Oh, memory loss, from exhaustion...

That's probably a good sign I need to take a break.

Strauss sighed again. "Listen, Richter... you need a day off. You've been busting your ass for your pursuits, but you haven't been rewarding yourself for that. Tonight is when we get our weekly break, in case your forgot." And forgot I had.

"I see, so you want me to go to the bar with you, Abrams, and Sherman?" I asked exasperatedly, there was no way I was getting out of this, I could see the determination in Strauss's eyes.

"Yes, will you go?"

"Can I even drink legally?" I asked, quite aware of the fact I was a mere 16 years old.

He quirked an eyebrow. "Of course you can, your 16 years old, right? That's the age of adulthood." He spoke as if I was stupid. Which in this case, I was indeed quite ignorant of the cultural norms of Amestris.

"Do I have a choice?" I asked, already knowing the answer. He grinned.

"Nope! We plan to leave in a hour and a half, so you better get a shower!" He said cheerfully, and promptly left.

...

"Altrustic jerk." I grumbled. Dusting myself off from my nap in the dirt.

———

"And welcome, to the finest establishment in town," Abrams said dramatically. "Violeta's bar!"

I'll admit it, I was impressed.

It was a classy place for a bar, positioned on the corner of a street with bright flashing lightbulbs on it's sign that reminded me of an old theatre.

Abrams was already grinning like a madman the moment we walked through the door. And if I thought the outside was classy, oh boy was it something else on the inside.

The smell of fruity alcohol and cigarette smoke permeated the air, as the stone of the street gave way to lovely red carpeting over wooden floors. Gambling tables and soft couches were all over the place. With a jazz band playing on the stage. Directly across from the stage was a large central bar with every type of alcohol imaginable on display.

It was crowded with people, gamblers in flashy white suits, off duty military officers in their distinctive blue uniform, (as per proper regulation.) average joe's enjoying a night out, well dressed aristocratic type folks. It was as if I had fallen into a time machine that took me back to the 1920's.

Any regrets about Strauss dragging me here was suddenly lifted off my shoulders. Allowing me to fully relax for the first time in 4-odd something weeks.

Abrams happily rushed to the bar, eager to get blackout drunk as fast as possible. Sherman walked to one of the tables with younger fancier people, talking to them with an air of familiarity that could only be associated with close friends.

Strauss meanwhile led me to a table booth a bit away from the crowd, catching the waitress's attention and ordering us some martini's.

"My first night to drink, and your already starting on the fancy stuff?" I asked incredulously.

He laughed. "Hell yeah! If we're going to make you slack off, we have to do it properly."

I smiled, it was almost like being back home...

"I guess we do." I said happily.

After getting our drinks, toasting each other, (and almost choking to death on the sharpness of the alcohol.) Sherman waltzed over to our booth and took a seat.

"The band's good tonight, isn't it?" He said. Tapping his glass twice, wait... wasn't that?...

Strauss took another sip of the martini, and Sherman continued. "We have a feeling of Leopoldian lightness over wellarounds 'ere, right?" That phrase made no sense whatsoever, and seemed just to be Sherman flexing his extended vocabulary over us. But my brain was already dissecting that phrase.

_We have a F.O.L.L.O.W.E.R_

Shit.

Strauss turned to Sherman and winked.

"I noticed, that group over there to the left seems quite affected by it, don't they?" None of us looked, we understood the meaning.

"Yes, odd group really, considering all of them are from our line of work." Military, what could we have done to make the military follow us?

"That's strange," I spoke up. "Any lookers?" I asked.

Strauss's eyes twinkled and Sherman gave a mock scoff of disgust.

"Good to see your education hasn't dulled your priorities Richter!" Strauss said boisterously, while I was still trying to cleanse my brain of the phrase I just uttered. "In fact, there's a short haired girl who's quite attractive, though she seems to be in the company of a couple of blonde's tonight, one of them seems to be a body builder! Wouldn't go picking that fight if I were you." Translation: 1 girl, 2 guys, one of them looks strong, avoid conflict. The code training we had undergone preparing us for moments like this.

"When did they get here? I didn't notice them walk in." I took another sip of my drink.

"They were here when we arrived, they seemed to have been waiting on someone." Sherman said.

Strauss nodded his eyes temporarily flashing with uncertainty.

"How's Abrams doing, by the way?" I asked, Sherman rolled his eyes.

"He's attempting to sweet talk a couple of redheads with his foul mouth. It was honestly quite humorous to watch." Sherman trash-talking Abrams always eleviated tension.

"Absolutely charming." I muttered dryly.

I calculated the possibilities in my head, wondering what we could possibly do... if we left the bar they would just follow us... to what end? Why were they stalking and waiting on us in the first place? Ugh, how could we get back to the safety of our dorms without...

Wait, that was it!

"Y'know, I really need to go back and do some reasearch, maybe even go to bed early." I mimed a yawn.

Strauss started glaring at me instantly.

"I think-" he began.

"You know, your looking awfully tired too, Strauss." I cut him off. "Maybe you should come with me, and let Sherman and Abrams catch up later."

Both of their gazes narrowed, before snapping wide open, to finally settle down back into our practiced smiles.

"That's a good idea Richter, though I have a couple of stops to make that are a bit out of the way... might need to make a detour?" Strauss suggested.

"That's fine with me, want to go ahead and leave?" I asked.

"Yes, oh and Sherman. Make sure your back before twelve, alright?" He said.

Sherman nodded. "I'll go make sure Abrams doesn't get too drunk." And with that, we left the bar.

Walking through the streets in a zig-zag pattern gave me bad flashbacks of my first night in Amestris. Though this time I swore I wouldn't follow suspicious men in alleyways (which should've been common sense, trust me I know.) and I made some light small talk with Strauss along the way.

"Good idea on splitting up the group, hopefully they'll only be able to keep eyes on half of us." Strauss said as we rounded a curve in the alley.

"Please, it was nowhere near as good as the 'Leopoldian lightness' comment." I said, Strauss snickered.

"Sherman sure has an amazing vocabulary, doesn't he?"

"That, he most certainly has."

We walked in silence, criss-crossing side streets and alleys through the night.

It was so dark, scarily so. I had my hand drifting to my holster sub-consciously, only to realize we had left our guns back at the barracks before we left. Leaving only my Veritas knife as defense.

We kept walking, the silence, combined with the darkness, beginning to chafe at my nerves.

Suddenly I stopped in my tracks, and slammed Strauss behind a wooden crate without thinking.

I think it was my anxiety that saved our lives.

**Crack BOOM**

Thunder suddenly blasted my ears, only for me to see a flash of blinding electricity hit Strauss just before we reached cover.

"Strauss! Strauss!" I yelled, when I got no response, I checked his pulse. It was beating rapidly, but still beating.

But how the hell did lightning?-

"Damn! My aim's gotten rusty." I heard a a voice rasp.

I got up to see a middle-aged man in a trench coat. Angrily glaring at me. And in his left hand... a metal gauntlet? With some sort of circular-

Oh god, that was a transmutation circle.

"W-who are you?" I asked, standing up while silently drawing out my knife from its concealment.

"Me? Hmph, I was once called the Storm Alchemist. Before I turned traitor, that is." Storm Alchemist? Wait.

Study. Files. Renegade Alchemists. Dyrant Wolt; The Storm Alchemist.

Shit, this guy was a veteran, his file flashing before my eyes, memorized due to how long I studied each of the renegades files.

"Why are you trying to kill us?" I asked. Cursing myself under my breath for having neither throwing knife's nor guns at my disposal.

"Hmm? Actually I only wanted to kill your friend there. You see, me and his father never really got along... so I intend to make him suffer." The wiry man brought up his gauntlet.

"Though I can't just let you get away now, can I?"

I ducked barely in time to avoid the second bolt of lightning. Which was honestly quite slow.

For lightning, that is. I felt a jolt of electricity brush my arm, burning it slightly and sending a shockwave throughout my body.

This was bad, he could kill me before I even got close enough to use my knife, and I was stuck hiding behind cover until he came to kill me... wait, didn't lightning naturally- of course!

I jumped out from the wooden crate, saw his fingers come up to snap, and threw my knife.

Terrible throw, as the knife was not designed to be thrown, but the lightning naturally arc'ed to the metal of the blade and-

"Agh!" The Alchemist screamed. The lightning disappeared and he fell on his butt. I was rushing towards him confusedly, that shouldn't have caused his electricity to redirect back at him, so how could he be hurt... ?

I reached him, and before he could react. Punched him in the face, and attempt to wrestle the gauntlet away. Only to be kicked hard in the gut and straight into a alley wall. Nearly knocked unconscious.

Wolt stood up.

"Arrogant brat, I was military once. I know close quarters combat like the back of my hand." He spat.

I coughed up blood. The kick had nailed me so hard into the wall I could barely stand.

"Now, you die." He said venomously, and snapped his fingers.

...

Nothing happened.

He snapped again, nothing happened.

"What the-!?! Why isn't this..." he backed away. Revealing an object that had been below his boot.

He had been standing on my discarded knife.

"Huh? But... how!?!-" he managed to get out, before being smacked in the face with a cone of earth.

He flew across the alley. Leaving me dazed and confused.

"Private, Are you alright!" A deep, manly voice spoke.

I turnt to the voice, only to see... oh my god.

His face was perfectly constructed, a glorious square jaw accompanied by a beautiful golden mustache. A single piece of curly hair near his forehead. Muscles bulged through his military uniform, his hands clasping brass knuckles writ with alchemical knowledge.

Alex Armstrong standing before me, In all of his muscular glory.

I stared in shock, nodding numbly. wondering how on earth-

"So the coward of Ishval has decided to enter the fray, huh? This should be easy." The Storm Alchemist spat, slowly standing up from the heavy blow he had been dealt.

Armstrong's mustache bristled furiously.

"**YOU DARE INSULT THE NAME OF THE ARMSTRONG FAMILY, OF WHICH MY FLAWLESS TECHNIQUE HAS BEEN PASSED DOWN THROUGH GENERATIONS?!?!" **He roared, ripping of his shirt to reveal his perfectly cut bulging muscles.

He punched the air, causing bullet's of road matieral to lift themselves from the ground, shooting towards Dyrant Wolt. Who jumped out of the way in a nick of time. Snapping his fingers to allow a burst of electricity towards Armstrong. Faster than lightning, Armstrong created a wall of earth in front of himself. Shielding him from the blast.

But Dyrant didn't stop, he kept blasting away at the way with his electric bolts. Over and over again, chipping away at Armstrong's defenses little by little.

Armstrong noticed this, and slammed his right fist into the ground.

The alley shook as if an earthquake was taking place. Throwing the Lightning Alchemist off balance, giving the Armstrong scion enough time to close in, the close combat technique of his family eclipsing the smaller mans lackluster fighting style easily, allowing Armstrong to smash his fist cleanly into Wolt's skull. Knocking him out cold.

I simply sat, in awe of the sheer brilliance of destruction wrought in the fight between them.

Armstrong dusted himself off. "Are you alright, Private?" He asked me.

"I-I'm fine, but Strauss..." I pointed, the major rushed over to him as I slowly stood up, painfully walking towards my comrade.

"His pulse is erratic, he has bad burns up and down his chest. But, he will most likely live, follow me to the car." He glanced at me sideways. "If you can manage walking, that is." I glared at him.

"Of course I can."

He looked at me strangely, it was impossible to tell what thoughts he was thinking behind his stoic face.

"Very well." He finally spoke.

The Major slung the unconscious Lightning Alchemist over his shoulder, and cradled Strauss in his other arm. And we walked through the alleys, quickly reaching his car.

We put the two unconscious men in the back, with me entering the shotgun as Armstrong got in the drivers seat, (he had to hunch to fit his massive frame in the car) and drove to the hospital.

I kept checking behind me, looking nervously at Strauss, silently praying that he would be ok.

"Private, why did you and your group split up at the bar?" Armstrong asked, the only visible movement on his stoic face being his twitching mustache.

I thought for awhile, collecting my thoughts.

"We thought their was a 3-man group of military personnel targeting us. Due to the fact as soon as we walked in they seemed to be waiting for us."

Armstrong kept his stoic expression.

"I see, my subordinates and I were too conspicuous with our protection of you." My eyes shot up to the Major's face. He noticed the gaze, and continued.

"We has been alerted of a potential threat to Private Strauss's life, and tailed him."

I remained silent at that, my 'clever' plan had almost got my friend killed. If we had stayed at the bar and left together it would've been so much safer.

"Why was the renegade targeting Strauss specifically, Sir?" The question had been on my mind for a bit, ever since Wolt's vague explanation.

"... While he was not Ishvalan, he and his family lived in an Ishvalan town before the war broke out." The Major remained stoic, yet I could already tell where the story was heading.

He continued. "Wolts home, and family, were destroyed along with the town. Under General Strauss's orders."

...

Silence.

...

When we finally reached the hospital, it was a relief to get out of the car's atmosphere of tension.

Armstrong carried the two unconscious men, with me clambering behind him at a painful pace.

After getting Strauss and Wolt checked in, (and making sure Wolt had a strong military guard.) Armstrong turned to me.

"Private Richter," he spoke. I gave him my full attention.

"Yes sir?"

"You are to check yourself into this hospital for immediate medical treatment of your injuries, understood?" He ordered.

"But sir, I'm fine-" he cut me off

"No you are not, and my order wasn't a request, Private." He was glaring at me. "Understood?"

I nodded, swallowing. "Yes sir."

The Major left, and I followed my orders. Checking myself in, my assigned doctor informed me of my fractured ribs, severe bruising, and light burns on my right shoulder. And so I was to stay the night recuperating.

I laid down in the bed of my hospital room, slowly allowing my consciousness to fade away.

———————————————————————

**An: again, it's late, Sorry! I'm honestly not completely happy with this chapter. But I decided to go through with it anyways.**

**All feedback is appreciated.**

**Cya around, folks!**


	7. Alchemic explanations

I was released from the hospital the following day.

After waking up, I was questioned by a military officer who I didn't recognize. They asked me to give an account of the previous night.

I told him what happened, from the split up at the bar to the fight with Dyrant Wolt. He wrote the whole story down, and seeming satisfied, told me I was free to go.

But before I left, I needed to check something.

I entered the room quietly, Strauss was still sleeping, a nurse informed me that his condition was stable and he would get better in around a week. A wave of guilt burned through by chest, it was my fault he was hospitalized. My stupid plan had almost gotten him killed.

_Idiot._

As I finally left the hospital, I noticed some familiar faces walking towards the hospital.

"Richter! Are you alright?" Sherman said, his usual calm demeanor breaking for a second as he sprinted towards me.

"Yes, I'm fine." I assured them.

_But it was my fault Strauss was hospitalized._

Abrams caught up with his more regal friend. "And Strauss?" He asked nervously.

I smiled. "Expected to make a full recovery in a week."

_Despite my mistake._

Outwardly, I gave no sign of the thoughts plaguing my mind. But I felt that despite my best efforts, my friends were somehow seeing through me.

But they said nothing.

_They blame you._

"Well, we were going to check on you both," Sherman said. "seeing as you've left the hospital, we would like to look at Strauss. Just to see—"

_The results of my failure? My hubris in coming up with such an obviously stupid plan, and thinking it would work?_

"—for ourselves how he was doing." He finished.

I nodded, "Very well, I'm going to head back to base and study." I needed to get my mind of this situation. But concerned looks flashed on both of their faces.

"Richter, you should take it easy, you just got out of the-" Abrams began.

"I'm fine, I just need to get back to my research." I cut him off rudely. I walked away, and I felt their stares on my back. Were they worried gazes, or angry gazes?

_Justified anger._

I forced the thoughts out of my brain.

———

When I got to my dorm, I immediately opened one of my many, _many _borrowed books from the library. It's subject?

Alchemy.

Alchemy, the science of deconstructing and reconstructing matter.

...

Yeah that's a damn lie.

Did you deconstruct and reconstruct things in alchemy? Yes.

But was alchemy a science?

AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA-

No.

First of all, alchemic circles controlling elements and chemical reactions had no explanation whatsoever other than 'symbology'.

Need some fire? Throw a salamander in the circle.

Need to move some earth? Two abstract triangles intersecting each other.

It.

Made.

No.

Damn.

Sense.

Well, it made sense, but not from an objective, or even remotely scientific point of view.

You see, to properly transmute using an alchemical circle, you couldn't just copy and paste something you saw.

You had to _understand _it.

And not just understand it, you had to understand every facet of what your circle did.

What does that line represent on it's own? What does that line represent within the context of the symbology present? What does that line represent in the context of the polygon it forms with other lines?

You had to understand every single little detail, line, symbol, and overall chemical reactions within multiple contexts. All in a single circle.

And what if you messed up, or didn't understand a part of your circle? At best, nothing would happen.

At worst, a rebound. I shivered at the thought, as the horror stories of alchemical rebounds I had read put serial killers to shame in terms of pure terror.

And this is why someone couldn't just pick up Roy Mustang's gloves and just _snap _to make them work, because you wouldn't understand the underlying chemical reactions symbolized by the complex lines, symbols, and philosophy.

Yes, philosophy! Alchemy was _very _dependent on philosophy, which I think most alchemists in this world would disagree with.

Except Van Hohenheim, given his 'Philosopher' moniker.

But I digress, the reasons for why this wasn't an objective field of study are somewhat complex, but I'll do my best to break them down.

First of all: symbology could be changed between cultures to gain the same effect. AKA change out your lil' Salamander for a horse and you would have the Aerugian school of Alchemy's symbol for fire.

Don't ask me how that works, I don't know.

Well, I _do _know, but it doesn't make scientific sense.

It doesn't mean you could just swap out the symbols and it would instantly work, no... it would alter the entire theory behind what _makes _fire in the mythological understanding of that culture.

Example:

Dragons, Dragons breath fire, in Amestris, Dragons and Slamanders were closely associated, as Salamanders were thought to have been baby dragons.

Fire = Dragons, and Dragons = Salamanders,

Therefore Fire = Salamanders.

A very simple proof. Makes sense, right?

But in Aerugo, where they had no understanding of Amestrian baby dragon = salamander myths, that didn't work.

They had their _own _mythos.

The horse of dawn. The ancient Sun-god who rode into the skies carrying the sphere of flame on its back, illuminating the earth.

Horse = Sun, and Sun = Fire.

Therefore Horse = Fire.

A very simple proof.

So Horse and Salamander can be used interchangeably. Right?

No, because Horse's are associated with _water _in Amestris.

Therefore, conflicting definitions, require conflicting geometric lines, within conflicting alchemical circles.

If some Aerugian guy invented Mustang's flame alchemy, the entire circle would look radically different.

Confused? Because I most certainly am.

Same result, different symbology, but same chemical reaction.

So the symbology and very foundations of alchemy were subjective, and almost entirely focused on human constructs. This is why Alkehestry was able to be used when father was interfering with regular Alchemy, because they came from differing perspectives and beliefs.

Do the Sciences play an important and great role within Alchemy? Yes! Absolutely! You can't have Al-**chemy **without **chemi**stry after all.

But Philosophy, Culture, and language are equal to, if not even greater, than the sciences in terms of alchemical importance.

Oh, speaking of language, I figured out why Latin is used in certain Transmutations, It's the ancient Xerxian language, translated into the Amestrian/English alphabet of this world.

Neat.

However, I digress. As my current field of study was not in the long, tedious 'philosophy vs science' debate of alchemy.

It was lightning.

I had been _infatuated _with lightning ever sense I saw Wolt use it.

And I remembered his circle quite clearly. I drew it on a spare sheet of paper. As I said earlier, the immediate use of such things is quite impossible.

But you can try to reverse-engineer the methodology behind it.

One problem.

The circle was weird...

It started off fine, a large 'Z' was inside the circle, each of its corners hitting the Circles rim, reminding me of a lightning bolt.

So far, so good.

In the midsection's of the horizontal lines of the 'Z' lay smaller circles. They were connected by two curved lines going between them.

Within one circle, a dark cloud.

Within the other... A saber toothed cat? A lion? A tiger?

A bear?

OH MY.

Yeah I was stumped.

The final piece of the circle were 4 words in some weird alphabet I was not familiar with in the slightest.

Well screw me, guess that was a bust.

But how could the Saber-toothed Lion/Tiger represent Lightning?

Heck, it's mane looked to be made of clouds.

Was it some sort of weird obscure myth I knew nothing about?

...

Probably.

Welp, I'm finished on that front.

I sat up from my desk, and went out of the room to get some water.

———

I made my way to the water station at the mess hall. (I needed to invent water fountains for this world, it would erase the inconvience of walking so far to get a drink.) and sat on one of the benches, I was now quite disappointed in myself. I had failed to protect Strauss, as well as failing to figure out the Lightning circle.

I sipped my water, contemplating the great mysteries of the Saber-toothed Lion/Tiger, (Liger? Tion?) when a large hand laid itself on my shoulder.

I spat out my water in surprise. Looking up quickly to see who it was.

"M-m-Major Armstrong? Sir!" I stood up and saluted, alarmed by how the ginormous man could sneak up from behind me with such stealth.

"Private Richter! Please, at ease." He made a gesture for me to relax with his hands. "I merely wished to discuss something with you... so may we speak in private?" The Stoic man requested.

I nodded. "Absolutely, Sir!"

Armstrong lead me to a deserted meeting room. With a large rectangular table and multiple chairs, we sat on opposite sides from another.

"First of all, Private. Would you mind explaining where you acquired... this?" He brought out my... Combat Knife?!?! I completely forgot about it!

"F-from my father Sir," I kept with the story I gave Mustang. "It was a heirloom, not sure where he got it, Sir."

Armstrong simply put a hand to his square jaw in contemplation.

"I see... Richter." He spoke, my eyes snapped to attention. "When the Storm Alchemist attempted to finish you off, his transmutation failed, twice. Your testimony that Lieutenant Sinclaire acquired earlier confirmed what I saw with my own eyes. Do you know why his transmutations failed?"

I... didn't, was his gauntlet damaged? No... because then it wouldn't have worked when he used it later on to fight the Major.

Wait, Combat knife, Wolt, no alchemy...

He had been standing on my knife...

"Sir," I finally answered. "Was it my... knife?" I asked in disbelief.

Armstrong looked at me. His brow furrowed slightly more than usual.

"It was the only thing that seemed to have been able to do it... though I don't know how." The Major spoke carefully.

My knife, disrupting alchemy. How? Why?

And more importantly. If it did...

Why did Truth give me such a powerful tool?

"Have you tested that hypothesis yet, Major?" I asked.

He nodded. His once impassive eyes now filled with uncertainty.

"I tested my technique on it several times. When it is touching me, I cannot use alchemy. But... when I use alchemy on it from a safe distance away..." his eyes twinged with uncharacteristic worry. "It... hurt me." He said reluctantly. "As if my own alchemy was being reversed and hitting me instead, even though physically, nothing even touched me."

Wait... that explained-

"Sir, I noticed a similar reaction from Dyrant Wolt when his lightning alchemy hit my knife, it was as if he shocked himself." I answered.

But how could this be! Why could this be! Both me and Armstrong's brains were racing, I could see it in his eyes. Trying to figure out somehow, someway...

"Major, what does 'Veritas' mean?" I asked.

The Major did not answer for a long while.

"I do not know." He finally spoke. "Yet, it is the only plausible reason for your knife being able to disrupt and prevent alchemy... something about that word on your knife does it." Armstrong seemed genuinely baffled by this discovery, as was I.

"I would like to reiterate I have no idea where this knife originated, Sir." I answered. While I knew the knife came from truth. I was not sure if it's properties and how they worked.

"I believe you." That phrase... that phrase of utter trust, it made me feel even more guilty than before...

Why was I lying so much...

"Sir, may I keep possession of this knife?" I asked.

Armstrong's facial expression closed back into it's stoic normality.

"Give me a good reason, Private. This is a very dangerous artifact-"

"I'm training to become a Zählerchemiker, Sir." I spoke. His eyes widened.

"A Zählerchemiker- But that hasn't been-" he stopped himself, containing his surprise and putting up his wall of Stoicness oncemore.

"If I had this knife, I would be able to preform the duties of a Zählerchemiker much more effectively, Sir." I continued.

". . . That, you would..." Armstrong was hesitant, but he sighed. "I will allow you to keep it, on one condition." He stared at me with utmost severity. "No man, other than you or I, must be able to know about the properties of this knife. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Sir." I stared at him right in the eye. Determined to uphold the promise.

"Then I entrust this knife in your hands oncemore. Private Richter." He got up to leave, the knife was still on the table. "And never let this knife be taken from you."

And with that, Major Alex Louis Armstrong. The strongarm alchemist, left.

Leaving me alone with my knife.

I grasped it, analyzing it's design, looking for some clue of its powerful nature.

And yet, only the word 'Veritas' was engraved.

Truth, why would you grant me such a weapon... if you did not intend me to...

Was the interloper from another world, the one I was supposed to kill... could they be an alchemist?

———————————————————————

**An: This is a double upload, more to notes next chapter.**


	8. Alchemic realizations

Knife, Alchemy, Disruption.

Knife, Alchemy, Disruption.

Knife, Alchemy, Disruption.

How?

Why?

These thoughts echoed in my head, constantly.

Practicing knives? _Veritas._

Practicing Alchemy? _Disruption._

Talking to people? _How did it work? I need to go back and study._

Sherman and Abrams weren't talking to me, but I felt their gazes on my back whenever they were around. But ignored them.

I decided to experiment.

Veritas, my combat knife. Was indeed preventing alchemic reactions. I confirmed that simply by trying to activate a circle that the knife was touching.

However, when Veritas interacted with an on-going transmutation, it hurt the alchemist transmuting, as if the transmutation was reflected back on the transmuter.

But how?

I didn't know.

_Knife, Alchemy, Disruption._

But my brain always came back to it.

What did it lead to? What did it mean? Did Truth give me the knife because the interloper was an alchemist?

_Knife, Alchemy, Disruption._

A day passed.

_Knife, Alchemy, Disruption._

And another day.

_Knife, Alchemy, Disrupt—_

"Richter." A voice, and a hand on my shoulder. I looked up from my desk wearily, It was Sherman.

"Strauss finally woke up, we're going to see him. Care to join us?" He requested.

No. I couldn't face him now.

After all, I was the reason he was hospitalized—

And I was being dragged through the dormitory halls, wait, huh?

Literally dragged, the heels of my boots were raking the floor.

"Abrams? Strauss! What are you doing!" I had to tilt my head backwards to see them. They were dragging me by my wrists.

"You were zoning out, so we took the liberty of deciding your answer for you." Sherman said as we passed by a very confused pair of fellow trainees, with their eyebrow raised and their eyes wide. And then more trainees walked by. Eventually, they started laughing at my hopeless situation.

I deadpanned "Sherman, you are destroying every inch of my dignity and pride."

"What dignity?" Abrams' said as we finally exited the military complex. "Everyone thinks your a damn shut-in bookworm already."

"Which is completely true." Sherman spoke as if it were a matter-of-fact.

I didn't respond, their honest criticism was rather irrefutable.

"... can I at least walk instead of being dragged?" We had reached the sidewalk.

"Nope, you'll just try to run back to your books." Sherman stated.

And so, I was dragged to the hospital, completely helpless, by my two friends for a solid 15 minutes.

This was my penance for being a bad friend and ignoring them for so long, wasn't it?

Passerby's on the street gave us strange looks as we passed through the city, and by the time we reached the hospital any dignity I had left was in tatters.

"Can I walk now?" I said when we reached the hospital doors, my wrists were sore from being held for so long.

Abrams was panting slightly. "Yeah, you need to lose some pounds."

"First you take my free will, and then my dignity, and now you insult my weight." I sighed. "I really was acting like a closed-off jerk wasn't I?" I asked rhetorically, for I knew the answer.

Sherman and Abrams both nodded. And the former cleared his throat.

"Perhaps you should see Strauss first... alone." He gave me a meaningful look.

"... I see."

I walked into Strauss's hospital room.

He was lying in his bed, looking out the window. He turned towards me. His eyes lit up.

"Richter! I'm glad your alright." He gave a smile of relief.

I didn't return it.

"Strauss..." I sat in the visitors chair. "I'm sorry."

He blinked. "For what?"

Huh? Wait, he's not-?

"For the plan! The people we thought were following us were trying to protect you! If we had just stayed at the bar and not split-up you wouldn't have been hospitalized-!"

"Ok, calm down." He cut me off with a gesture to slow down. "I haven't been fully briefed on what happened that night, can you relay it to me real quick?"

It was my turn to blink, I made a sheepish expression.

"A-ah, yeah... so it started when we left the bar..."

———

"-And Major Armstrong drove us to the Hospital." I finished.

He stared at the wall silently, seeming to contemplate what he just heard.

I lowered my head.

"I'm sorry, I screwed up-"

"No you didn't." He said simply. Catching me off-guard.

"W-what do you mean! It was my plan that-"

"You made a plan with the information available at the time. We didn't know that we were under military protection, and that there was a former state Alchemist out to get me. In any other scenario, had the military been following us as we originally thought they were, your plan would've been great."

"But-" But he continued.

"And furthermore, when the plan went awry. You saved my ass from being fried by a bolt of lightning. So I think you covered any debt's your mistake would've put you in."

I stayed silent. My eyes wide, was he actually forgiving me?

"Have you been beating yourself up over this the past few days?"

I nodded, suddenly feeling quite silly.

Strauss shook his head, muttering "idiot" under his breath.

"Richter, you need to see the bigger picture in all of this. Sure you put my life at risk, but you also thought with your feet and saved my life."

I sat their silently, processing the information. One of his words...

Bigger picture?

Wait, of course! Of course!

"I'm an idiot." I blurted out. Practically jumping out of my chair.

Strauss gave me a side eye. "We've established this already."

I glared at him, my guilt completely washed away. Replaced with newfound determination.

"While insulting, you actually just solved a problem I've had the past few days."

He blinked, "with what?"

I winked, "can't tell."

It was his turn to glare. "I think I preferred it when you were repeatedly apologizing."

I laughed. "Sorry, you also fixed my emotional crisis too."

He grinned. "You see, now you _really _owe me."

I deadpanned. He laughed.

"Listen, I can see it in your eyes, whatever you figured out is something big. So don't feel like you need to stick around."

My eyes narrowed. "But what about-"

He waved a hand. "Don't worry about it, off to your books Richter!" He made a shooting motion with his hands.

I chuckled. "I'll be back!"

"Better be, and I want to eventually know what you figured out!"

I stopped right before closing the door.

"Sure thing," he beamed. "In one or two years, that is." His face promptly dropped.

I closed the door, racing down the hallways of the hospital. Eager to get back to my dorm as quick as possible.

I figured it out.

———

The answer to how, and why, my knife worked the way it did. Was simple.

I didn't need to know.

Yep, anti-climatic, huh?

Bigger picture, what was my bigger picture?

Well I had two goals.

1: long term goal: stop the interloper from wreaking havoc on this timeline.

2: short term goal: become a Zählerchemiker.

I couldn't do much with goal 1 currently due to lack of information, but I could do goal 2.

What was my knife in context of goal 2? Easy, it was a _tool._

Did I need to know how or why it worked to achieve my goal? No. I just needed to know what it did, and how to use it.

I knew what it did, and I just need to formulate strategies around using it.

I wrote down a list of every Alchemist I know of that I may need to fight in the future. (And even ones I wouldn't probably fight, just in case.)

First on the list:

**Isaac McDougal: **Freezing Alchemist. Manipulates liquid in order to freeze and boil his opponents.

Counters: He's most effective at close range. Therefore keeping him at a safe distance might allow me to beat him soundly and safely in a fight.

But what long range weaponry did I have at my disposal? Due to anime logic, this guy could dodge bullets... and my throwing knifes were for midrange combat.

I thought about it, before grinning.

Lightning.

The Storm alchemists circle I couldn't decipher, but I realized something else from Strauss's 'bigger picture' remark.

I wasn't trying to replicate his exact transmutation, I was just trying to achieve the end goal of using and manipulating lightning.

Remember my tangent from earlier? About alchemy being a subjective field of study, and how you could use your own cultural symbology to use it?

Oh yeah, it's all coming together.

Now, when I thought of lightning symbols, I thought of two guys.

Thor and Zeus.

Let's continue with Zeus for now, shall we?

Now I couldn't just _draw _Zeus on the transmutation circle, for one. It was far too complicated, and two, what did Zeus even look like?

But I had an alternative.

Zeus's sacred animal, the Eagle.

Lightning = Zeus, Zeus = Eagle.

Therefore, Eagle = Lightning. A simple proof.

Now as I also said earlier, I couldn't just swap out one symbol for another.

I needed to make a whole new transmutation circle.

I sat up from my desk. Destination? Central library.

I was going to need to do a hell'uva lot more research.

———————————————————————

**An: Double upload! Also a quick note, from now on all non-Richter POV scenes will be in 3rd person.**

**Now, I hope my explanation of my interpretation of how alchemy makes sense. Otherwise I've completely failed.**

**_ShadowHeart:_ thanks so much for the review! It's nice to know my writing is enjoyable to read.**

**Thanks for reading! All reviews/criticism/feedback are appreciated!**

**Cya around, Folks!**


	9. The Tests

_January 25th, 1914_

"Private Eric Ezekiel Richter. Are you ready to begin your examination?" Asked Lieutenant McKynes.

"Yes sir." I replied.

3 months.

3 solid months of work, study, and training.

And it was finally time.

I was in A large study room along with several trainee's, and two other higher ranking officers, Major Orion and Lieutenant Holstadt.

First on the list of exam's, basic officer skills.

It was a written exam with a 1 hour time limit. Simple questions for different theoretical scenario's and strategies. And trivia on the military.

Like a SAT for trained killers.

_Question one: What are the ranks of the Military, from lowest to highest?_

I groaned, this was going to be boring.

———

Well thank God it was an easy test, although tedious.

I stretched my back as my group got up from our seats. It was painful sitting hunched over for so long.

The next test was firearms, so the group of trainees went to the shooting range.

The targets were made to look like humans, with circular shooting zones on the face, chest, and... well, the private parts.

I lied down with my rifle, resting it against my shoulder. I took two quick shots, missed both, and swore.

Deep breaths, calm down...

_"Alright, just check your shoulder blades and... Fire!"_

_I took the shot, the rifle smacking against my right shoulder. Unfortunately, the bullet ended up smacking the targets arm. A solid foot's difference from the bullseye marker on the chest._

_"Well thank God you're not trying to become a sniper, because that has to be the most galling shot I've ever seen." He took a sip of his tea._

_I was irritated, so I snapped. "Why don't you try to take the shot from this range! Huh?!?"_

_Sherman looked at me for a couple of seconds. Before sighing._

_"Very well, get up and hold my tea, would you?" He said in his usual calm demeanor._

_I blinked, dumbfounded, and did what he asked._

_Sherman reloaded the rifle with the skill of a seasoned hunter. Deftly pulling the bolt back, and getting into position on his belly._

_He took a noticeable deep breath. And fired._

_Not even bothering to look at his previous shot, he pulled the bolt back and fired again, and again, and again._

_When he stopped firing he got up, took his tea back, and said to me:_

_"The trick with shooting is to keep a calm mind, and to relax your muscles. Tension and anxiety will only cause you to jerk the gun around upon firing." He took another sip of his drink, and walked away._

_He had hit all bullseyes._

I pulled the trigger for the last time, out of 20 shots, 12 with a pistol and 8 with a rifle. I hit 18 of them, 2 of which being bullseyes, and the other shots were within acceptable measures.

However, due to my specialty in knives I was asked to throw 5 at a target.

That was easy. Unlike guns, the knowledge of combat I gained from truth directly aided me there. And I scored 5 bullseyes easily.

Next, physical capability:

So, usually in most armies, you would have a physical course made up of running, crawling under barbed wire, jumping over obstacles, climbing over obstacles, etc. etc.

Well the physical capability was that, but on steroids.

Longer runs, more crawling sections, larger obstacles. And a smaller time limit.

But I managed to clear it, winded as I was at the end.

Next exam: Close combat.

I was assigned a partner, and we were both given wooden knives. Lieutenant McKynes was watching as a referee of sorts.

"Begin!" He shouted.

My opponent rushed me, eager on completing this as fast as possible. I cleared My mind, time seemed to slow down...

_"Augh!" I grunted as Abrams foot smashed against my chest. Knocking me down to the floor._

_we had been practicing for hours. Close quarters combat was both of our specialities,_

_But it was becoming very clear who the master of it was._

_"That makes 55 to 1 my favor... are you sure you're ready for the exam?" He asked incredulously._

_I stood up coughing, wobbling on my legs slightly._

_"One more..." I said._

_He grinned._

_This time I went on the offensive, swinging a roundhouse punch fast, so fast that he barely had time to react before being knocked straight to the ground._

_"55 to 2!" I shouted in pride, and turned away to get some water._

_Only for my legs to be swept out from under me, and a knife pressed against my throat._

_"Never turn your back on an opponent, Richter."_

_I sighed..._

_56 to 1_

I dodged the man's swing, he was fast.

But not fast enough.

I mimed a swing at his shoulder, he fell for it and tried to block, only to be suprised as I reversed targets and smacked him in the chest with my practice knife, right on top of the heart.

"Break!" McKynes yelled. "Point to Richter!"

we got back in our starting positions.

"Ready... Begin!"

This time he went with a calmer approach, circling slowly around me like a predator does to its prey.

I made the offensive this time. I rushed towards him, he lunged to meet me.

Then I stopped, not a meter away from him.

His lunge, expecting to meet resistance where there was none. Causing him to become unbalanced.

I kicked him in the chest, he toppled over somewhat easily. And when he tried to get up, I put the practice knife at his throat.

"Break! 2 points to Richter out of a best out of three, Richter wins!"

———

After being allowed the brief respite of showering, and cleaning up, it was time for the next exam.

Psychological evaluation.

I was taken to a private room, with merely a small table, two chairs, and a middle-aged Doctor in one of the said chairs, holding a notepad.

"Ah, Hello! My name is Dr. Fitzgerald." The lab-Coated man supplied quite helpfully, shaking my hand in a strong grip.

"Private Richter, Sir." I answered respectfully.

He gestured for me to sit down, and so I did.

"I must warn you, I'm quite skilled in detecting lies-"

Welp. There goes my strategy.

"-So please do not answer untruthfully. It will deduct from your rating. Now, Private Richter, lets get right on with the questions shall we?" I nodded. "Good, Good, " He pushed his spectacles up his nose. "Why do you want to serve in the Amestrian Military?"

I took a deep breath, collecting my thoughts, before answering.

"My father was in the military, and I always wanted to be like him, Sir." Not a lie, as long as I didn't specify _which_ military I was referring to.

He smiled and nodded.

"Next question, would you follow orders without question, no matter what?"

"Yes sir." That was a lie, but it was an _easy_ lie. So I doubt he noticed.

He checked something off on his notepad.

"What do you think about killing?"

...

Ouch, that's a tough question. However, it would be best not lie.

"I view it as a last resort measure, Sir. Though I do understand the line of work I'm in for, and the orders I'll have to follow." He wrote something down in his notepad.

"Good, Good. Now, what do you think of State Alchemists?"

Strangle question, but it made sense concerning my specialization.

"I dislike them, Sir." He raised an eyebrow. "Or at least most of them. In my opinion, most State Alchemists are missing some screws in the head." Like Kimblee, McDougal, or hell, the entire volume of renegade Alchemists I read about during my research.

And Tucker.

Damn that bastard to hell.

Fitzgerald wrote a lot of things down after that answer.

"Well, that's all the questions I have for you."

My eyebrows shot up.

"Uh, with all due respect, Sir. Are you sure?"

He chuckled.

"Well, usually I would have more questions for you. But you already had a couple of transcripts on you, from prior interviews with military personnel."

Prior interviews? But...

Mustang, Sinclair, maybe even Armstrong counted.

Thats fair, I suppose.

"You are now excused." Said the doctor.

I got up to leave.

"Oh sorry!" He yelled, and I turned back around. Wondering what he had missed.

"One more question, are you religious?"

...

Crap

Honesty? Oh that might make him write down a 'unsuitable for military service.'

Dishonesty? He would notice.

...

Honesty it is.

"Yes, Sir." I answered with some delay.

He seemed a bit taken aback by that, I guess atheism was common among military ranks.

"Well that means I need to ask you one more question... would your Religious creed prevent you from following orders you find morally disagreeable?"

Welp, I'm failing for sure.

"Yes, Sir." I stated.

...

"You are now excused, Private Richter." He said.

I left.

———

Doctor Fitzgerald was quite perplexed.

You see, the good doctor had once been on the lines of the Ishval massacre, a harrowing conflict for a mere civilian doctor. And all he wanted to do was help the innocent caught between lines.

It was through that experience, and his exposure to the Ishvalan religion, that the Doctor had first found his faith. For when his medicine reached the limit of it's usefulness, and bombs fell all around him. He had taken to praying for the safety and health of his patients, begging any higher-power that be to take mercy on the innocents.

And one fateful night, when all hope seemed lost, and the artillery shells crept ever nearer to his makeshift hospital, he sat in prayer. Yelling aloud in tears, praying to Ishvalla to stop the bombs, and save his patients.

It was then that the shelling stopped, just before hitting his hospital.

Such a moment being coincidence was inconceivable to his mind, and ever since then. He practiced his faith, giving thanks and prayers to Ishvalla, albeit in secret.

So when a trainee or two came by his desk, and lied about being 'non-religious', he was more than willing to let it slide.

But then this young man came in, Private Richter. He had not lied, and told him his faith. Even worse! He had said his faith would conflict with his ability to follow orders!

And so, Doctor Fitzgerald sat for a long while, deliberating on the trainee.

In silence he battled with himself, trying to determine within himself the best course of action.

Finally, he came to a decision. And giving a weary smile, he spoke to himself softly.

"You should thank God I was the one interviewing you, Private Richter."

And thus, he stamped '**approved**' on top of the young man's file.

Such is life, with its strange coincidences, and odd mercies.

———

The final examination.

The Zählerchemiker examination.

I swallowed in fearful anticipation. I could guess nothing about this test, there was no studying, practicing, or training that I could have done to properly prepare myself for whatever came at me.

I had tried, of course, to study alchemy and learn its secrets and counters. Hoping that it would be enough.

Yet as I entered the door leading to the testing room, I knew what was waiting was going to surprise me.

And honestly?

I wasn't preparing myself enough.

The room was a vast arena, with concrete walls and concrete floors. There was only one person in front of me.

He was bald, and his skin was dark. his black mustache spiked upward at the ends. His stripes showed him to be a Brigadier General, and the pocket watch chain dangling from his pocket showed him to be a State Alchemidt

Basque Grand sat in a chair in front of me, arms crossed.

F*king.

BASQUE.

GRAND.

What the absolute mother of holy god almighty was this?!?!?

"I see, so you're Eric Richter." He kept his face somewhere between cold indifference and a sneer. "You seem suprised by my presence?"

"U-uhm," My brain died for a second. Before I snapped back into awareness and gave the sharpest salute I could.

"Yes, Sir!"

His face remained in its impassive limbo.

"Richter, do you know how many Zählerchemiker's there are currently?"

"No, Sir."

"Zero. None remain, all killed in the line of duty." His tone had turned grim.

Zero! I knew the mortality rate was high, but I didn't expect it to be _that _high.

The dark-skinned man was still staring at me. His gaze was like iron.

"You see, Private Richter. This unacceptable number of loses has only brought shame. On both myself, and Amestris. It cannot continue. Which is why in order to make sure the Zählerchemiker's who pass now shall not die without accomplishment. I, Basque Grand, will test you in single combat."

I stood there, shocked.

How could I be expected to beat Basque Grand! The Iron-blood Alchemist! Who's military accomplishments far exceeded most of Central Command!

"Do you accept the challenge, Private Richter?" The tall man raised an eyebrow. his voice was even, yet his eyes...

The eyes of a cold-hearted killer.

...

I drew my combat knife.

"I accept your challenge."

He stared at me for a moment more, before nodding.

"Very well." He grasped two metal gauntlets from his belt, pulled them over both of his arms. And slammed them together.

Blue light blinded me as I threw a arm in front of my eyes. I looked up when the light dimmed, only to see the floor around him had twisted and curved into dozens of canons and artillery.

"Begin!" He announced.

The cannons fired.

———

Crap, crap, crap-

**BOOM**

I was thrown of my feet, face hit the ground.

Yet the cannon shot missed.

The whole room was filled with smoke. And the fight had only raged for a minute at most.

This meant I couldn't see the General. But he couldn't see me, the fog of war was truly in effect.

The General's opening salvo of of canon-fire would've killed me if not for the increased maneuverability I had attained (thanks anime logic.) but I was still plenty cut up.

I took the brief lapse in shelling to catch my breath, and examined my situation.

I had around 10 throwing knives stored away on my person, and my Combat Knife in hand if the need arised for it's peculiar properties to be utilized.

I also had a pistol, and a piece of chalk to draw alchemy circles with. But that was the limit of my arsenal.

Wait, I did hav-

No. Too risky, haven't tested it enough.

I grit my teeth, the smoke was beginning to clear, but I needed to think of something-

Of course!

I brought out the chalk and deftly scratched a simple transmutation circle on the floor, and activated it.

Blue light shown, and the ground beneath me shifted. I just need to make a few more of these...

**BOOM, BA-BUM, BOOM**

The cannons roared their salvo oncemore. Fire one after the other, I barely dodged the cannonballs being hurled at me.

But after the salvo finished, the room was filled with smoke again, allowing me to move and draw another circle before the cannons sung their booming symphony oncemore.

**BOOM**

Circle 3

**BABOOM**

Some of the shrapnel hit my left leg, but I still managed to draw circle 4

**BOOM**

Finally, the 5th circle was finished.

I waited until I could see Basque Grand, and just as the smoke cleared, I made out his poisition.

I activated the circle.

At that moment, the ground under the General shattered like glass, causing him and his cannons to fall in a semi-circle shaped hole of my devising.

I sighed in relief, and dusted myself of. My victory was certain-

Wait, what was that sound?

_Clink, Clang!_

A whirling sound. As if an object was speeding through the air.

Chains latched on the edge of the hole, and General Grand climbed up from them.

His eyes were furious.

He lunged, I wasn't fast enough to dodge.

I felt his gauntlet pummel by ribs, cracking at least two of them and throwing me backward. Falling into the floor, I tried to get back up. Only to be picked up and pummeled in the gut, throwing me so far I hit the wall.

I spat blood, barely able to breath.

The General, for his part, was relatively unblemished. Having only a couple of scratches on his forehead.

He gaze narrowed... with contempt? Or disappointment? My vision was blurry.

"So this is the best you could do? Unfortunate." He said, his voice giving away none of his emotions. He began to walk away.

My consciousness was slipping... I had failed, there was no way to win...

_"Richter, what on earth are you making?" Said Strauss._

_It had only been a week since his recovery, and yet he was already in his old habit of being as nosey as possible._

_I sorted out the rubber and steel on my desk, making sure the external steel adhered to the rubber base._

_"Alchemy." I said, attempting to not let his interjection ruin my focus._

_". . . You're really determined, aren't you? To get your specialization, I mean."_

_I snorted. "What gave it away? The near-constant studying and training?" I said sarcastically._

_He rolled his eyes._

_"Richter." He said, I turned around to face him. His eyes were dead serious._

_"Don't fail, got it?" His tone was final, there was no room for argument._

_"I won't." I promised._

I couldn't fail, not here, not yet.

I had too much at stake, and therefore there was only one option left to me.

I pulled out my last chance from my pocket, pulling its matieral over my left hand.

A rubber glove, with metal-tipped fingers.

I spat more blood, and saw that General Grand was halfway across the room.

"G-General!" I yelled hoarsely. He stopped, and slowly turned around.

"Never turn your back on an opponent." I said, bringing up the black rubber glove.

And proudly showing off the transmutation circle of the back.

His eyes widened.

I snapped.

Two metal tipped fingers slashed against each other rapidly, sparking

**CRACK _BOOOOOOM._**

I was thrown up against the wall, my back smashing into the concrete with renewed force. My left arm numb with shock.

But I couldn't stop here.

I crawled up to my feet, painfully stumbling towards where Basque Grand was. He was also struggling to get up, the lightning having down a decent amount of damage, it seemed.

Yet before he was fully up of the ground. I pressed my knife against his throat.

"I win." I choked out.

And then everything faded to black.

———————————————————————

**An: Welp, this was a pain to write, and I'm not sure I'm ok with the finished product. Next chapter I think I'll try to mixup my writing style.**

**_TwoFacedConundrum: Thanks for reviewing! Unfortunately I don't think Richter will morph into Keanu Reeves._**

**Yet.**

**_Awesomest: Thanks for reviewing! I'm glad you think the stories going well._**

**_Reviews are always appreciated. And thank you all for reading._**

**_Cya round, Folks!_**


	10. Results

Hm...?

Where am I?

I opened my eyes, and I groaned. I felt sore all over and my left arm felt like it was burning. I looked at the arm to find, indeed it was burnt. But how-

Exams, Basque Grand, Fight, Lightning Transmutation.

Ugh, serves me right for not testing it more. There clearly hadn't been enough insulating matieral to stop the electricity from both shocking and burning my arm.

I took note of my surroundings, and the familiar whiteness of a hospital room surrounded me. I sighed, I really needed to stop getting injured.

I looked over at a small table to my left. And noticed a little service bell, I weakly picked it up and rang it. Within a few seconds of my doing so, a nurse appeared in the doorway.

"Oh Mr. Richter! Your awake. I'll get the doctor, but is there anything you need right now?" She asked in a pleasant tone.

"Yeah, can I have some food? That would be great." I asked sheepishly.

She smiled. "Of course, I'll be right back, Sir."

The next few minutes went by fast, she brought me a plate of eggs and bacon (thank the lord) and I began eating them. I was halfway through when not one, but two doctors entered the room. One of them looked awfully familiar.

"O-oh, Dr. Fitzgerald! I wasn't expecting to see you." I almost choked on my eggs.

He laughed. "Neither was I! But HQ wanted me to drop off your test results." He placed a sealed folder on my table. "However, I don't want to interrupt my colleagues work, so I'll take my leave now. Goodbye!" He said cheerfully, which was odd considering how terribly the interview went yesterday. But he left before I had a chance to voice such thoughts.

The other doctor cleared his throat, catching my attention. He took a seat.

"Now, sorry for the wait Mr. Richter. To be honest you woke up abnormally fast. With the kind of pummeling you received I would have expected you to be out for another day or so. Tell me, how do you feel?" His tone wasn't bored, but not really interested either.

"I feel sore all over, and my left arm hurts a lot."

"Hmph, we probably need to apply more salve. Electric burns are tricky to treat. And yours were quite severe. Anything else?" He asked mildly.

"How long have I been out, Sir?"

"Only a couple of days, nothing shocking considering what your body has gone through." I nodded.

He sat up, "I have a few more patients to attend to, so if there's nothing else bothering you. I'll make my leave. Oh, and I'll make sure to send a nurse to apply more salve."

"I'm fine sir, thank you."

He nodded, and left.

I felt rather drowsy, so I went back to sleep.

———

_A circle, a Triangle overlapped it, with another circle inside the triangle. In it, a Eagle. _

_Surrounding the Eagle were a few words._

_Jupiter, Tempestas, Versus, Hostis._

———

I was awoken by the sound of clacking against my skull.

"Wakey wakey Richter, the sun is shining." That voice...

"Can you shut up, Strauss." I grumbled, the sunlight from my newly opened windows temporarily obstructing my vision.

"Well someone had to make sure you wake up. I came here as soon as I heard you woke up, only to find you had fallen asleep again! That's no way to treat a friend. Richter." He tutted.

"If you haven't noticed, I kinda had my ass handed to me earlier."

"Oh trust me, it's quite apparent." My vision was better now, allowing me to see the cocky smile of my best friend in this world. He sat on the foot of my bed.

"Now, what's this neat folder we have over here?" He said deviously, opening my report grades.

"You know that's illegal, right?"

He shrugged. "It's not illegal if no one sees it." He smirked, causing me to groan.

"Your going to earn a reputation for being bribable if you keep up that attitude." He scoffed, looking over my grades.

He whistled. And handed them back to me.

"Congratulations." He said. But... that can't be right.

I looked at my file, and nearly dropped it in surprise, my eyes widened.

_Officers written exam: passed._

_Firearms: passed._

_Specialization; Knives: passed._

_Close combat: passed._

_Physical fitness: passed._

_Psychological fitness: passed._

But... how! How on earth could I have passed that! I literally said my religion would conflict with orders...

I dispelled the thoughts from my head, because the most unbelievable Mark was right in front of me.

_Specialization; Zählerchemiker: passed._

_The candidate has been granted the rank of Zählsargeant. First class._

"7/7 exams." Strauss grinned. "You're an Officer now, Richter."

My disbelief slowly turnt into relief.

I did it.

I passed.

———

_February 14th, 1914._

Central command, the impressive structure that dominated the entire city of Central's skyline. A constant reminder of the militaries protection, and control, of its populace.

And in one of the many war-rooms, two figures of great import to the future were discussing matters of urgency.

"The Freezing Alchemist... really, he's here?" Colonel Mustang spoke, slightly caught off guard.

"We have information that he managed slip into Central a few days ago, that's why I've summoned you here Colonel. I need your men to smoke him out, and bring him in." The Führer, King Bradley, ordered.

"Consider it done, sir." The Flame Alchemist spoke with understandable confidence. After all, a seasoned war-hero like himself should be able to crush the traitor with ease.

The Führer chuckled, "It's good to know you're with us in Central for awhile Mustang, I'm glad to know I have someone I can count on."

"Sir." Mustang dipped his head to his leader. The young Colonel already excited for his inevitable victory, and the positive press coverage that would follow.

"One last thing," Mustang looked back to the Führer. "Our rising young star is here as well, I'm placing him at your disposal." Mustangs eyes narrowed imperceptibly at that.

"Forgive me, Führer Bradley, but just to be clear you're referring to-"

"I am." The older man interrupted. "The Fullmetal Alchemist,

Edward Elric."

Outwardly, Mustang gave no reaction. But inwardly he was smirking, he knew the two Elrics wouldn't fail him. Mustang turned to leave.

"Actually, there's one more thing. Colonel." Mustang turned back towards his Commander. "You have a new man joining your staff soon, correct?"

_How did he know that? _Mustang wondered. "Yes sir. While the paperwork has yet to be filed I'll have a new subordinate soon-"

"I'm expediating that process, from now on. Zählsargeant Eric Richter is at your disposal as well."

For all of his training, Mustang's shock could not be hidden as his eyes widened. "Z-Zählsargeant? Forgive me, Führer Bradley. But-"

The Führer chuckled. "You didn't know, eh? I would've expected for you to be more on top of your future subordinates, Mustang." The Colonel cringed inwardly at being caught off guard. "He'll be reporting for duty at your temporary HQ shortly. You are now dismissed, Colonel. Make me proud."

Mustang saluted. And left for his command room.

He was going to have some choice words with a certain _Zählsargeant _about his choice in profession.

———————————————————————

**An: double upload, more to notes next chapter.**


	11. The Plot begins!

I buttoned up my jacket, double checking my uniform to make sure everything was in good condition.

While I had passed my exams some weeks ago, the paperwork confirming my joining Mustangs staff was taking abnormally long. I blamed the Colonel's laziness.

Yet, here I was being summoned to his office, in Central. There was only one reason Mustang could be setting up shop in Central. It was time for the first episode of the 09' anime.

That thought made me strangely terrified.

I patted my officer's stripes to make sure I had sown them on correctly. While they had the usual sargeant insignia, they also had a little extra design to show my designated field.

A knife stabbing a transmutation circle.

Oddly fitting.

I checked my equipment. Combat Knife in its sheath? Check. Throwing knifes in their various sheaths all over my body? Check. Pistol holstered? Check.

I left for Central HQ.

—[—]—

Roy Mustang was annoyed.

Not only had he had to deal with Fullmetal's whining and moaning at the fact he had been requested to halt the Freezer. But he had foolishly let his sponsored candidate's career path be hidden from his knowledge.

_Zählerchemiker... _The Colonel pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. Mustang wasn't worried about the specialization itself, as having another alchemy literate member of his team other than Hawkeye might prove useful. No, the problem was the external factors of Zählerchemiker's, as they were expected to police nearby State Alchemists to assess if they were intending on betraying the military, or deposing the Führer.

Which Mustang was, eventually.

If Mustang slipped up, or somehow made Richter wary of him, he could be on the run faster than he could say 'scandal'.

So it was for the best he instructed his team (mainly Hawkeye.) to be wary of it's newest addition.

The door knob of the HQ clicked, Mustangs attention snapped to the door, as did the rest of his team.

And Zählsargeant Richter stepped in.

—[—]—

The first thing I felt walking through the door was Riza Hawkeye's intense stare. As though I was targeted by a rifle.

I ignored the sheer terror creeping into my spine, and instead focused on Colonel Mustang, and saluted him.

"Colonel Mustang Sir! Reporting for duty!" I spoke.

There was a tense pause. Before Mustang spoke.

"At ease, Zählsargeant." I gratefully let my shoulders relax. Saluting for too long still hurt my back.

"Zählsargeant, my apologies for your sudden call to my office. But unfortunately we have a situation at hand that requires all hands on deck." Navy slang in a landlocked Military, interesting.

"If you don't mind me asking, Sir. What's the situation?" I pretended not to know the answer.

"Isaac McDougal. You heard of him?" The Colonel asked slyly.

My wealth of knowledge regarding renegade State Alchemists from my months of study slammed into my brain.

"Freezing Alchemist, Sir. Renegaded after the Ishvallan Civil War. Was recently known to be working with domestic terrorist organizations." I answered.

The Flame Alchemist nodded. "Intelligence reports he slipped into Central a few days ago. Our orders are to neutralize him." Neutralize was a funny word for shoot, but my overactive terrified mind decided to merely nod at the statement.

"Very well, Sir. What are my orders?"

"Stay on alert, and be ready for me to call on you as soon as anything happens. So go to the office and reintroduce yourself to my team." The Flame Colonel said, as if it were of utmost importance.

Ah, summoned to my CO's office, only to be told to wait to be summoned again. The old maxim of 'hurry up and do nothing' once again ring true.

"Yes, Sir." I turned to leave.

"Oh, but before you leave." Oh god. He was smirking smugly. "I have a few questions for you, Richter. After all... it's been three months since i've seen you last?" His voice was friendly, but his eyes betrayed a hidden overtone in the conversation. As if he suspected me of something.

"Almost four months, Sir. What would you like to know?"

"Why did you become a Zählerchemiker?" Oh hohoho, I see your game, Mustang. I wasn't oblivious to the fact Zählerchemiker's were expected to report on State Alchemists they came into contact with.

"It sounded interesting." I replied offhandedly, causing the Colonel's eyes to narrow nigh-imperceptibly.

"Really? No other reason?" The suspicion was starting to reach his voice now.

"None at all, Sir." I replied in the same casual tone.

"It's a hard specialization to pass. It must've taken some determination to go through with it."

I nodded. "It did, Sir."

"Perhaps the determination was fueled by something personal?" He wasn't even bothering to hide the fact of this being more of an interrogation than a friendly chat.

Oh well, as Envy once (will?) said. Time to throw the Flame Colonel a bone.

"I moderately dislike State Alchemists, Sir." I said, not breaking the same casual tone I had held for this entire conversation.

Mustang raised an eyebrow. "How much is 'moderately'?"

"Depends on the State Alchemist, Sir."

"Hmph, can you give me an example?" He was clearly intrigued now.

"Absolutely, Sir. On one hand, I dispise Sh-Solf J. Kimblee. Yet on the other, I have nothing but respect for Major Armstrong." I didn't actually hate Kimblee that much, I just needed an 'S' name to cover for the fact I almost said Shou Tucker.

If Mustang noticed the slip-up, he didn't show it. But he did give a cocky smirk before asking another question.

"And where would I fall on your scale, Zählsargeant?"

Oh Mustang, you fool! You've fallen for one of the classic blunders!

"Meh." I answered. Causing the Flame Colonel's smirk to fade. Hawkeye stiffened.

"'Meh?'" He said incredulously. "Care to elaborate?"

"To be honest Sir, you're not very noteworthy." He glared. A beautiful idea popped into my mind. "Unlike, per see, the Fullmetal Alchemist."

His glare deepened, and I could barely keep a straight face. God it felt wonderful to bruise his ego.

...

Wait, am I turning into a sadist?

...

Probably.

"Your dismissed. Zählsargeant." He said through grit teeth. Was that a faint undertone of hurt I was hearing?

I saluted, and left.

I broke into laughter as soon as the door closed.

—[—]—

Mustang grumbled, angrily shoving some papers into the trash can. Whilst also pretending not to hear the _extremely_ loud laughter coming from the hallway.

"'Meh?!?' Oh I'll show him just how noteworthy I can be when I catch Isaac... I'll show them all-"

A strange sound, somewhere between a snort and a chuckle, sounded from behind him.

The Colonel slowly turned around. Seeing his Bodyguard holding a hand to her mouth.

"_Ahem. _Lieutenant Hawkeye, care to explain... what that noise was?" The Flame Alchemist asked threateningly.

"Nothing, Sir. Just a cough." She responded, her dull tone giving away no emotion.

"Right..." Mustang turned back to his papers, embarrassment flushing his cheeks as him slammed more trash in its designated can.

"Sir." Hawkeye began, "Have you considered that Zählsargeant Richter was... purposefully attempting to bruise your ego?-"

"I KNEW IT! I'M GOING TO ROAST THAT BASTARD!" Mustang exploded.

And yet under his angry outburst. The soft sound of the first Lieutenant's chuckles remained hidden to everyone but herself.

—[—]—

Yep, that seemed to be the right door. Open sesame!

"Hello there!" I called out.

"Uh, kid we're in the middle of something-" Havoc turned around from his chair. Only for his cigarette to drop out of his mouth. "R-richter! What are you doing here! And why are you in uniform?!?"

The entirety of team Mustang (other than Hawkeye.) was sitting at a large table, a map of central on the wall and papers scattered haphazardly around the room.

"I'm the new member to Mustang's staff. Lieutenant... did the Colonel not inform you?" I raised my eyebrow quizzically. Breda decided to answer.

"Uh, he told us there was a new guy we were supposed to keep an ey-" Havoc swiftly elbowed him in the gut.

"-A guy we were supposed to show the ropes! Yeah, the Colonel always making sure he's got his guys in line..." Havoc chuckled nervously.

Sure.

Not suspicious at all.

"...but he didn't inform us it would be you!" Havoc finished.

"Oh, that would be useful." I said. "I've only trained for three months so they threw some practicality stuff out of the window-"

"Three months? But that would only be possible if you... you took the officers accelerational initiative course!?!" Fuery yelled in surprise. I guess that was the official name for the crash course...

"Yep, and I got Zählsargeant first-class."

Falman, who had been ignoring the conversation and instead staring at the map till now, looked up and raised an eyebrow. "Zählsargeant? I guess the Colonel wasn't joking about the odd specialization."

Havoc gave the warrant officer a smile. "Yeah are Colonel sure is a great prankster. Especially when he doesn't reveal who the new guy is until we meet him _in person." _He added a bit of agitation on those last two words.

I laughed. Before promptly clearing my throat, and letting myself relax slightly. Before taking a seat at the table.

"Alright, what's the situation?" I asked.

Breda walked over to the map, and began to speak.

"Intelligence informed us that Isaac 'the Freezer' McDougal infiltrated central, given his ties with terrorist organizations such as the Anti-Establishment League we assume he's planning a terroristic action, we received an eye-witness account of someone matching his description walking down an alley branching of 5th ave." He pointed to a street. "Our goal is to try to collect as much information as possible, and to try to get the gist of what his plan is."

"Of course, with the Chief on the case the job is as good as done." Said Havoc, casually lighting another cigarette as he spoke.

Breda glared. "But we still need to figure out his plans, and-"

Havoc sighed and rolled his eyes. "Listen, Breda there's no way Fullmetal could screw this up. Just relax and enjoy our time off the job."

—[—]—

"Looks like you underestimated your opponent Fullmetal." The man dubbed 'Col. Bastard' spoke.

The young blonde grumbled, he was in for a earful.

———————————————————————

**An: Double upload oncemore! Don't worry, next few chapters should be longer and take more time to write. Reviews:**

**_LadyJessicaMustang: _Yep, I hope not to focus too much on Ed and Al and instead focus on what Team Mustang is up to. **

**_1233moon1233: _thank you so much! I'm glad my story is enjoyable.**

**_Theawesomest: _oh trust me, Richter's hospital fee's will bankrupt the military by the time this is over.**

**_Lordoftee: _'Anime moment' is unironically praise I love to hear, it's hard to capture the feeling of a visual medium using writing. So thank you so much!**

**_ShadowHeart: _Dude it's fine. I'm honestly just glad your still interested in the story (and for bearing with me as I try to improve my writing.)**

**Thank you all so much for the reviews! Criticism, comments, and questions are all appreciated!**

**Cya around, Folks!**


	12. To catch a Freezer

"What do you mean Fullmetal screwed up!" Havoc whined.

Lt. Hawkeye sighed, the dejected faces of her subordinates were obviously both expected and annoying to her.

"The Freezer got away, meaning we need to deploy the team around the city to guard key area's. Havoc and Fuery," The two men noticeably straightened. "Take the crossroad between Grand Avenue and 8th street, Breda and Falman, take the crossroad between 6th and Victory road. And Richter," She turned to face me. "You'll be with the Colonel and I. Any questions?" No one spoke. "Off to your posts, you are dismissed."

As the quite dejected looking Team Mustang got out of their chairs, I sat up from my chair and walked towards my superior officer. She noticed me and seemed to see the questioning expression on my face.

"Do you have a question, Zählsargeant?"

"Yes ma'am. Where are we going, exactly?"

"Wherever the Colonel says, follow me." Her answer was short, purposeful and direct. I merely nodded.

We left the room, but instead of walking to Colonels temporary office, she decided to walk towards the building's exit. I was curious as to why, but I kept my mouth shut.

I soon saw the reason, as outside HQ the Colonel himself was waiting in the passenger seat of a car. Hawkeye got in the drivers seat and I got in the back.

"Colonel." I gave a slight salute as I took my seat.

"Sargeant Richter." He barely acknowledged me before turning back to his bodyguard, "Triumph boulevard." He said, and we took off.

I looked out the window, watching the scenery of the city race past. A familiar nostalgia of the days when my dad drove me around my hometown crept in, only to be squashed by remembering we may never meet again.

Still, the fond memories drifted through my mind, relaxing me and almost completely absorbing me, and then car stopped.

I got out and analyzed the situation. It was getting dark outside. And Triumph boulevard was littered with several dozens of blue-uniformed soldier scurrying to salute the Colonel.

As Mustang doled out his orders to the private's, I couldn't help but look at the nearby shops and stands. They were closing for tonight, and one jewelry stand caught my eye.

Suspicious black clad individual? Check.

Terrified looking woman? Check.

Fast and hasty movements by the suspect grabbing as much jewelry as possible? Check.

An odd bulk resembling a pistol under the man's jacket? Check.

But why the hell would you attempt to rob a stall within several military members line of sight?

Oh well, probably just an idiot. I took out a piece of chalk and started writing on the sidewalk in front of me. Two triangles... Circle...

"Sargeant, what are you doing?" 1st Lieutenant Hawkeyes voice cut in.

Another triangle poking outside of the circles boundaries.

"Armed robbery about 15 meters in front of us. Ma'am." Did that line need adjusting?

"I noticed, though Is Alchemy really your first solution?" Her tone was oddly indifferent to the situation at hand.

"It's the safest way to do this without the stall lady getting harmed. Permission, ma'am?" She nodded, and I pressed the transmutation circle with my hand.

The Mineral reaction flared blue light, the ground shifted as I saw the earth give way from under the assailant, causing the poor sucker to fall into my pitfall.

Success.

I raced over to the pit and pulled my gun on the dazed would-be robber.

"You're under arrest for armed robbery with a deadly weapon, don't move." I ordered.

"Well, nice catch, Sargeant. A common crook while we're hunting a terrorist?" A sarcastic voice spoke from behind me.

I jumped down into the pit, not sparing a glance at Mustangs smug remark as I disarmed and cuffed the criminal. "Did I do something wrong, Sir?"

"No, but I would like you to clean up your alchemic mess, and take that thief to central prison if you don't mind."

Instead of a Private he sends an officer to do a turn in? And exclude me from the chase... I see, he still doesn't trust me yet. At least on high-profile stuff.

Grin and bear it, I suppose.

"Yes Sir."

———

Central Prison was an impressive place, it's white walls of stone had a good intimidation factor.

I turned the thief into the prison wardens, (no trial needed in Military dictatorships I guess.) and started to walk out of the building.

Then I stopped, wasn't this where...

Yes it was, I turned back to the desk.

"Excuse me, I'm a Zählerchemiker-" I tapped the Broken Transmutation insignia on my shoulder "-and I wanted to do a quick inspection on a former State Alchemist being detained here. I believe his name was Solf J. Kimblee?"

The secretaries eyes narrowed. Before relenting and handing me an ID card labeled 'inspector'. "Solitarily cell 624."

I gave a word of thanks and continued on my way.

After exhaustingly going up 6 flights of stairs (for the love of god, someone please invent elevators in this world) I arrived at floor 6, to be met with the slight of several frozen guards laying down on the floor.

Apprehension flooded into my gut, maybe I should turn and flee? No, no. I trained for this, though it won't hurt to be careful.

I crept through the halls, my footsteps falling silent on the stone floor.

A voice, an aggressive growl.

"-You know what Bradley made us do. That's why you killed those officers, isn't it?"

A deranged chuckle resounded at that comment. I shifted to the corner of the hallway, peering over the wall too see a frozen guardsman.

"Oh no, you misunderstand me." That was Kimblee's voice, it's scratchy tenor tone easy to distinguish. "My motives were not so pure and high-minded. The reason I killed them, was because I wanted to. That's it."

Ahhhhhh, good'ole psychopathic Kimblee probably would've liked Barry the Chopper if they had ever met. Similar logic.

"That's a shame, Kimblee. It really is." The Freezer said, he stepped into my vision and pushed the frozen form of the soldier onto the floor, shattering it into pieces. The callous display filled me with fury.

I pulled my gun out and fired at the Alchemist.

Yet he somehow noticed me and tried to dodge, so only my first bullet hit him at all, directly in the shoulder.

He grimaced in pain, and rushed towards me at alarming speed, I barely had time to drop my empty gun and draw out my knife.

I narrowly ducked under his outstretched hand, avoiding the transmutation circle on it aswell. I tried to throw a few punches into his chest but he deflected them easily, I felt his knee smash into my own chest and I was thrown back.

I coughed, weakly grasping my combat knife with my right hand and watching in horror as the Freezer walked towards me.

"Bad choice kid, shouldve stayed silent." His transmutation circle hand rushed towards my face.

I blocked it with my left arm. The transmutation went off.

Or it would have, if I hadn't used my right arm to stab his arm with my combat knife.

His eyes widened.

I slashed upward.

He recoiled in pain, clutching his arm, before looking around crazily.

His eyes settled on the icy rubble that had once been a prison guard. He slammed his arm on it.

I barely had time to cover my eyes before a wild torrent of steam slammed into me, nearly throwing me off my feet.

By the time it was over, I looked up to see no one in sight.

I swore, I had let him get away.

—[—]—

"Two subordinates failing in one night? That's a record." Mustang said drily.

It was the day after the Prison affair, and my rib cage was still sore.

I stiffened at the comment, before responding;

"For the record, Sir. Your orders were to deliever the thief to the Prison, not to fight the Freezer."

"So your admitting you disobeyed orders?" It was more of a joking 'gotcha' question, his tone made it clear. But I answered it resolutely anyways.

"No, I'm saying I followed orders to the letter, and then saw something odd and had to investigate."

The Colonel sighed. We were sitting in the car, waiting for the radio to give some signal of McDougals whereabouts. Mustang was quite serious on wanting to catch the man himself.

"At least we got an updated status on his whereabouts, it shouldn't be to hard too... wait." His voice shifted into a far more commanding tone. He tossed the Military Radio to the backseat. "Richter! Call squad's 4,11, and 13. Tell them to head to the top floor on the old Macedonia wearhouse. Hawkeye! Step on it." The last order was seemingly unneeded, as the First Lieutenant has already floored the gas pedal.

The streets were empty due to the emergency curfew, and so it took less than 7 minutes to reach or destination. Still, Mustang was acting both antsy, and a little excited.

We got out of the car, a few of the squads drove up behind us shortly after and we raced up the wearhouse's stairs. Coming to a halt when we reached the roof.

Isaac was there, his back facing us as he stared at the skyline. Clutching his arm injury...

The soldiers fanned out behind Mustang. The Colonels signature gloves were already on.

"It's been awhile, Freezer." The Colonel spoke almost casually.

"Roy Mustang... or should I say, the Flame Alchemist?" McDougals deep voice spoke.

"Listen, come quietly. I'd hate to hurt an old war buddy from Ishval."

Isaac snorted. "I knew no friends in Ishval, only the military and their dogs!"

Mustang sighed, "Very well." And with that, he snapped his fingers.

I dove behind cover.

**_FOOSH BOOM._**

Water and fired clashed, the air itself suddenly felt sticky and hot from the sudden evaporation of water from fire, and the sudden droplets of water washing over us didn't help the feeling either.

The Colonel, now suddenly wet and useless, was... _fuming_

Forgive me.

I barely registered the man's taunting about Roy's 'flame going out' as I rushed to his Ice bridge. Intent on chasing him before he could escape.

But the bridge collapsed into shards before I could reach it, and McDougal left, sprinting across the rooftops.

I was annoyed... he was clearly out of my league. How could I... then I facepalmed.

_Why didn't I see such an obvious solution..._

—[—]—

Edward was smug, he had predicted his target's moves to a tee.

"I was wondering what you were doing in this alley so I came back to check, and bingo!" No response, the man's back was still turned. "No use in running away..." Edward added. The Freezing Alchemists back was still turned to the younger man, but as his head slowly turnt around...

His grin was insane.

Edward had a sinking feeling in his chest.

"Who says I'm running?" The gruff man replied.

He clapped his hands to the transmutation circle.

It sparked red light, as did another across the city city, and another, and another...

...

The red light stopped.

Nothing happened, ther than the air feeling slightly cooler than before.

McDougals eyes widened.

"What the-" _THUNK! _

A metal arm collided with his skull, and Alphonse caught the man before he fell.

"Sorry about that, Sir." He said, the half-conscious man mumbled something incoherently.

Al turned to his older brother, who was glaring at the transmutation circle.

"Brother, why didn't it go off?" He asked.

Ed's eyes didn't move from the circle. "That's what I'm wondering..." he muttered.

—[—]—

Damn, the knife to the circle worked after all.

That made it way more embarrassing to have been beat up, I could've just done that from the start and avoided fighting!

I had guessed that the main Ice-wall reaction that was meant to happen would only occur if all 5 circles went off, so by stabbing my knife in one of them, it disrupted the alchemic pulse. Causing the overall transmutation to fizzle out, and do nothing.

It still made the temperature drop a good 30 degree's, so I was shivering.

I was coming back from my brief alchemy-ruining excursion to find the MP's loading the Freezer up into a detainment vehicle. He was knocked out pretty hard.

Suddenly, something popped into my head. I almost forgot!

"Hey, wait!" I raced over to the MP's, they just stared confusedly at me.

"Sorry, Zählchemiker business, mind if I pat him down real quick?" I explained, the MP's gave each other a look, then shrugged and let me handle him.

I patted him down, checking every book and cranny, pockets? No... wait, didn't it fall out of his...

Sleeve. Yep, there it was. I pulled it out discreetly. And nodded to the guards.

"Checks out. Thank you." I gave a salute. And turned away.

I opened my palm to inspect my acquisition.

A false philosophers stone.

I grinned to myself, this was going to get _interesting_.

———————————————————————

**An: Another one, sorry if this chapter wasn't up to snuff. I promise I'll do better on the next one.**

**_Notlair_: uhhhhh, Thanks, I guess?**

**_Lady Jessica Mustang: _I'm sorry to disappoint! I'll go into more detail next chapter about why he didn't use his lightning alchemy to fight in this one... I'm actually saving him revealing his alchemy for a... _particular _fight.**

**_ShadowHeart: _yeah, it's _very _difficult. And I wasn't too hyped to write this chapter... though I'm very excited to write the next ones. I have a lot of ideas.**

**_ZaireGiovanni: _Yeah. Essentially Richter see's them in 3D as regular people, but they look enough like their anime counterparts to not look weird.**

**_DumbWriter: _This will be based mainly on Brotherhood, but it will borrow some elements from 03' later on. And thank you so much!**

**Thanks to all of the people who took time out of their day to review! It means a lot and gives me to motivation to keep writing, thank you all for reading!**

**Cya around, Folks!**


	13. Hello again, East City

_February 19th, 1914._

The strangest thing on the train ride back to east city was the atmosphere.

Havoc was sulking because he wasn't allowed to smoke on the train, Breda was asleep, his sleep depravation from the last case had got to him. Fuery was fiddling with a radio, Falman was sitting up straight and alert for no apparent reason, while Mustang and Hawkeye were in a different cabin, though _I swear _I could feel Mustang's waves of salt from his cabin, due to being beaten to the Freezer by Edward.

I snickered, being indirectly responsible for Mustang's ego being hit down a few notches was an amazing feeling.

I stared out the window, the green fields flashing by the train at an incredible speed. I had never ridden a train before, and the new experience was amazing.

What made it better was that Mustang wasn't aware of my actions, the official report listed the lack of a major alchemic reaction from Isaac's circle as a 'failed transmutation', and I had made sure to remove the other circle's shortly afterward.

I subconsciously felt my coat pocket, the small container I had put the false philosopher's stone in was still there. I sighed, I really didn't know what to do with it. On one hand I could keep it safe if it was with me... on the other it might be a good idea to get rid of it, God knows what Edward Elric would do to me if he found out I had one.

I decided to distract myself, and pulled out my notebook. It contained my alchemic research, and any details of what I remembered from the FMA series in it. Including the next few episodes. To make sure nobody found out the books contents, I wrote it in my secondary language. (Russian, Алло!)

Try to crack _that _code, Edward.

It was weird being in an alternate universe, where I knew an awful lot about the people around me, but they knew pittance about me. It was a bit detrimental, as it was hard for me to relate with many of the people around me.

It made me homesick, thinking about the friends I used to know, the people I used to share a semblance of closeness with. Could I ever get used to it here?

I shook myself of those thoughts, and turned my attention to the book in front of me. After looking through the contents, I began put away the book and looked back at my squad mates.

Havoc's eyes were on me, and contained a mischievous glint.

"Watcha writing, Rich?" God I hated that nickname.

"Alchemic research. What did you think I was writing?" I responded.

He quirked an eyebrow, "Alchemic research, really? Can I see it?"

I smiled. "Small chance you'll be able to understand it." I tossed the book to him.

He snorted, and began to open the book. "I'll have you know I'm quite intellige-" his eyes fell on the page. His eyes narrowed and he drew the book closer to his face. Before pulling it away again.

"W-What kind of... gibberish is this?!!?!" He asked incredulously.

I grinned. "Почему русский конечно!" I answered jovially.

Havoc sweatdropped. "What." He stuttered, the sheer confusion on his face was hilarious. I started laughing uncontrollably.

Yeah, I could get used to this.

—[—]—

The move into my new apartment went smoothly, I reminded myself one of the many perks of being a Zählerchemiker was the higher pay that allowed me to have my own space.

And the space was _definitely _needed for Alchemic experiments, but it did feel kind of lonely, the solitude of the apartment was so far apart from my boisterous dormmates, whom I had lived with for the past few months.

Speaking of which, I should probably write them a few letters, to let them know my new address. I sat down and began to write a good'ole fashioned letter.

_Dear Strauss, how have you been? Last I heard you were close to graduation?..._

—[—]—

The Eastern Command military office had barely changed sense I had been there last, the only in Team Mustang's offices was the addition of a desk for me.

I sat down, barely having anytime to set my stuff down before paper flashed in front of my eyes. I looked over to see Riza Hawkeye starting at me.

"That's your assignment, Sargeant. Complete it by tonight." She said in an authorities tone that brokered no argument.

"Yes ma'am." I glanced at the paperwork, a huge stack that was at least 2 inch's thick. Looking at the wording, I slowly realized this was the expense form for our Squad.

I sighed, this was going to take awhile...

—[—]—

After about a week, life had settled into a relatively normal routine, but the 9 hours of sitting at a desk started to make my back hurt after a bit.

Paper, after Paper, after Paper, I never realized the army had so much paperwork, it was especially worse when I was randomly assigned more paperwork whilst I was already completing previously assigned paperwork.

One day, it was so bad that I really needed to stand up and stretch, break or no break be damned. I needed a walk.

Hawkeye noticed me leaving and called me out.

"Sargeant Richter, what are you doing?"

"Taking a walk, my backs killing me from sitting down to much."

"Finish your assignment first, then a break." She answered sharply. I was starting to get ticked off.

"I completed 2 of the assignments already, I just wanted a quick break before I worked on the other 3."

The first Lieutenant quirked an eyebrow. "I only remember assigning you one stack of paperwork today, Sargeant."

I was confused. "Yes, but I had 4 more from the extra assignments Havoc and Breda kept giving me-" I stopped.

Hawkeye stopped.

Havoc and Breda stopped.

My head slowly, _ever so slowly_. Turned towards the junior officers.

"Hey... Breda, Havoc." My voice started to crack with the pent up strain and frustration of a week of extra office work. "Care to explain... why you aren't working on any paperwork right now?"

Breda paled, Havoc noticeably shrunk in his seat.

Hawkeye started loading her gun.

Havoc Squeaked.

The following moments of the two men begging for there lives was glorious, and Hawkeye allowed me to take the rest of the day off as recompense for their actions.

_Later that day..._

The walk around East City was quite relaxing, the much welcome stretching of my joints for a few hours had allowed me to dissipate the tension in my spine. I made it back to my apartment, and began to work. Not _military _work like I did at the office, no, this was personal work.

It had painfully been drawn to my attention how inadequate my fighting skills were, my attacks and tactics were inexperienced, my lightning alchemy still burnt my arm when I tried to use it, and it was uncontrollable in its power. So the solution was obvious, if I wanted to win. I would need to be clever and fight dirty. My first idea? Alternative weapons. Which is why I requisitioned a Tommy gun and many, many grenades.

...

A _lot _of grenades.

...

Anyways, now that I had a better normal Arsenal I simply need a better alchemic one. Which is where I was stumped.

You see, for all my ability to understand and decipher others alchemic abilities, it was _very_ hard for me to use alchemy correctly. This is why the my lightning transmutation was so dangerous, it was both uncontrolled _and _extremely powerful. Perhaps the worst combination of traits in the entire world. I slammed my head into my desk. Mineral alchemy was quick to draw, yet I could only preform the simplest of transmutations in that field safely.

I sighed, my bad chemistry skills were starting to catch up with me. I had my knife, but it's alchemy disrupting powers were not to be relied upon. As it required me to get in close range to use. I leaned back on my desk chair, struggling to think of anything that was both understandable and useful to me.

Wind alchemy? Already tried that, it's a field of alchemy that has little to no research done on it due to it being both complex and dangerous. So that's a no. Fire alchemy? Either Hawkeye or Mustang would catch me trying to steal the latter's gloves. So no.

Already mentioned mineral alchemy... Human alchemy? No, I shuddered, such things as the creation of chimera's were a disgusting subject that should be _never_ be studied. Well, that basically rules out all alchemy field choices I have.

I sighed, maybe I should focus on mastering lightning alchemy before I try anything else. I sat up, in the mean time I could always head to the shooting range to practice, it's been awhile sense I've used my throwing knives.

As I left my apartment, it was impossible not to notice the strange atmosphere outside, as if misery and monotone blue's and gray's had drained the sky of any other colour.

Wait, wasn't I supposed interviewing nearby State Alchemists? I brought out the list from my notebook.

_Roy Mustang: Unneeded, just need to file in a positive report on him to keep the militaries eye off him. _

_Talisen Wenclete: Finished, focuses on (mostly harmless) plants and other botanical research. _

_Renville Chasterly: Unneeded, is currently in the process of retiring. _

So far so good, those really were the only Alchemists in east city as far as I knew-

I went stiff.

How could I forget?

_Shou Tucker: Not yet interviewed._

I stared at the paper, trying to burn a hole in it with my eyes. Then I gave up. I changed my mind about going to the shooting range, I had an _inspection _to do.

_———_

The house- no, the _mansion _was eerily familiar. I felt a sickening feeling of dread as I walked towards its large front door. I took a deep breath, no reason to act strange when I was conducting an interview.

"WOOF!" A bark startled me, I instinctively jumped away, just in time to see a brilliant white blue speed by where I had been standing half a second ago.

The dog, Alexander, skidded on his paws after missing me. He turned around, a strange look of... disappointment? Crossing his face. I walked over and pet him, smiling fondly at the large animal.

Honestly, how could anyone _not _love this dog? I heard door hinges squeak, and I turned around to see none other than Shou Tucker himself at the doorway.

"Oh, I'm so sorry sir. My daughter must have forgotten to put up the dog before she left for school this morning... Alexander." He addressed the dog, and the white animal whined. "Go to your kennel, now." The dog visibly sulked, yet went away anyways.

I put on the best smile I could manage. "I-It's no problem, Mr. Tucker, I'm actually quite fond of dogs." His expression was hard to see behind his spectacles, but something about it still... unnerved me.

"Ah yes, animals are fascinating creatures, are they not?" His voice was a disturbing monotone.

"Y-Yes Sir..." there was silence for a shot while after that. Before I nearly facepalmed. "Oh forgive my manners, I should've introduced myself earlier." I held out a hand. "I'm Zählsargeant Richter, I'm interviewing the nearby State Alchemists around these parts. Do you have any time to spare for a few questions?"

I could've sworn he flinched slightly at 'Zählsargeant' but he nodded. "Of course, please come in." He shook my hand, his grip was surprisingly strong for his frame. And then he gestured for me to come inside. The inside of the mansion was... well it wasn't very tidy. Papers were strewn around, collecting dust as the lack of a good housekeeper was readily apparent even to the most untrained of observers. I took another deep breath as we took our seats at the dining table. I couldn't let my emotions get out of control, otherwise I would never find any evidence of his wrongdoing, after all, only I currently knew about his past misdeeds, and his potential future ones. I would need solid proof before I charged him with allegations.

"_Ahem,_" The man cleared his throat, shoving me out of my thoughtful stupor. "Forgive me for asking, but just to clarify, you _are _indeed a Zählchemiker, correct?"

I nodded. "Yes."

"Ah, impressive, not many men can claim to hold such a rank. In fact, I believe you are the only one left in your profession?" I nodded again. Something about his face... changed. "Quite impressive indeed... it must've taken a lot of effort."

"Yes sir, it was a hard exam."

Tucker smiled. It was a... disturbing expression on his pale face. "Doesn't sound to dissimilar to the State Alchemists exam... though I believe our conversation has digressed. Why am I being interviewed?" My jaw tightened, I guess it was back to business.

"I'm new to the area, so I wanted to familiarize myself with the local State Alchemists... it just so happened you were the last person I needed to interview." Though I wish I had never had the misfortune of meeting with you, Shou.

"... I see." He said. "Well, what do you need to know?" I brought out my small notebook. "Just a few questions." I answered.

"First of all, your specialization is chimera's... correct?"

"Yes."

"Alright, how long have you been a State Alchemist, Mr. Tucker?" The man seemed to ponder my question for a bit, before responding.

"I guess around two years now."

"Any living relatives? Other than you daughter, of course."

"... no, just me and my daughter, her mother left a while ago." My grip tightened around my pen, his lying over such matters was frankly disgusting.

"I see..." I took another deep breath, loss of control will get me no where. "Is there perhaps an example of your skills you would be willing to show me?"

His eyes glinted eerily from the pale sunlight that filtered through the windows. "Of course, but you'll have to understand if I ask something in return-"

"Equivalent exchange, I understand." I brought out my lightning glove.

His eyes scanned the rubber matieral with obvious interest.

"It's still a work in progress, I can barely use it without burning my hand up in the process-"

"There's no limiter." He said suddenly.

I raised an eyebrow. "Limiter? I'm sorry, could you-"

"Limiters are an extra circle used to control another circle via filtering and diluting the energies used by the primary circle, they're only used in extremely powerful transmutations that require a lot of effort. However, this lightning transmutation... even if I don't fully understand it, the symbology and geometric shapes are obviously evoking a mastery of the element you don't have... which is why you'll need a limiter, it will stop you from burning up your hand so quickly." He finished. "Though I must say this transmutation is quite unusual... and impressive. Come now, I'll show you my workplace." And with that, he stood up, and gestured for me to follow him oncemore.

I was in slight shock as I followed him... limiters? I guess that would make sense, considering how many Alchemists used both hands to- of course! They use both hands to distribute the energies to both of there arms instead of one! That's how they don't burn themselves up during transmutation!

Unless you're Mustang, then you just use your broken flame alchemy to murder everything without breaking a sweat... smug bastard. Every day I agree more and more with Edward's take on the man.

I was startled out of theses thoughts upon entering Shou's laboratory.

I nearly threw up.

How... no, I understand how. But why? WHY!?! What kind of sickening bastard would do this to animals! Every where I turnt a horribly mutated monster was waiting for me, screeching at me in agony, as if they were begging to be put out of their misery.

I didn't blame them. Two headed monkeys in obvious pain, some horrific sludge like entity in the approximate shape of a small mammal, lizards crossed with birds, birds crossed with dogs, cats merged together with far to many eyes and limbs to spare.

God have mercy.

"Do you like my work, Zählsargeant?" The skinny man asked, as if oblivious to the screams surrounding him.

This was the man, a man who had dehumanized, and deempathized himself so throughly he would be willing to transmute his own daughter into a shambling mess of pain and misguided trust. A man who dared play god not for a noble cause, but to experiment on innocent life.

Of all the monsters in the room, he was the most horrific. The banality of evil on full display as he casually washed some blood from his cages off in his sink.

"I think I've seen enough, Mr Tucker."

"Hey, Richter!" Havoc yelled, starling the younger man out of his seat.

_He's been acting weird ever since he arrived back at work this morning. _Havoc thought._ Something isn't right..._

"W-What do you need, Havoc?" Richter said.

His eyes were underscored with heavy bags, his skin clammy and pale, his voice was uncertain and weary.

It was obvious to all observers he was sleep deprived... _but why? He shouldn't be exhausted, I gave him over half of yesterday off... _Hawkeye thought.

"Nothing, you were just zoning out, so I thought I'd get your attention."

"I-I see, alright."

_And if he's still tired after that, he must've done something last night... _thought Breda.

_He isn't the kind to party... so I doubt he was at the club... _thought Fuery.

_**Then what could he have done? **They all thought simultaneously._

The mornings musings were interrupted by the office door being slammed open.

"Hm? Oh, Chief! It's good to see you!" Havoc jovially exclaimed.

"Heya Lieutenant, how are you all?" Edward Elric spoke, his armored brother close behind.

Most of team Mustang was too focused on the Elric's return to notice a shift in Richters facial expression.

All except Lieutenant Hawkeye, she knew the look in Richter's eyes all to well.

It was a look of pained worry.

_So it's started... _Richter mused silently, and watched the Elric's jovially banter with his squad mates. _Nina... how can I save you?_

———————————————————————

**An: Sorry this took so long! I kept having weird formatting issues while I was trying to write this. So it was a struggle to write****.**

**_LordofTee_: oh don't worry, the stone will come to play in a bit... **

**_LadyJessicaMustang: _welp Scar's coming up soon... I can't wait to write it!**

**_TheAwesomest: _F is for fire that burns down the whole town...**

**_BlackDragon: _nice to know my OC isn't completely uninteresting and dull, Thanks for taking the time to read it!**

**Thank you all for the reviews! They mean a lot, and I really do appreciate every single one I get.**

**Thanks for reading. Cya round, Folks!**


	14. Tension Before Terror

"So, did you come to see the Colonel?" Havoc asked.

Edwards face dropped, his features contorting into a _very _disturbing scowl.

"Yeah," the older Elric grit his teeth. "I came to see that lazy bastard, alright."

"I heard that, Fullmetal." Mustangs voice echoed from his office. "It's rude to talk ill of people behind their backs, you know."

Edward was fuming. "YOU'RE HARDLY IN A GREAT PLACE TO LECTURE PEOPLE ABOUT MANNERS, YOU EAVESDROPPING BASTARD!"

Alphonse sighed. "Brother, you need to calm down."

Edward took a deep breath, and went to open the door to Mustangs office. "I know, I know, he just makes me so damn _angry _all the time-"

"That's probably due to your _short_ temper, Edward" Mustang supplied unhelpfully.

The resulting explosion of insults, swear words, death threats and other proposed acts of increasing violence would've made my ears bleed if I hadn't been so narrowly focused on my own train of thought. Namely, how to save Nina.

Nina... she didn't deserve this, hell, no one deserved the nightmare that was to unfold soon. I had to stop it, but how?

I couldn't just waltz in without proof and claim Tucker was about to transmute his own daughter. After all, he was regarded as a kind family man at this point. Most people haven't even seen his experiments.

His experiments...

Oh god his experiments...

"Uh, Richter?" Havoc startled me out of my thoughts. "You're not looking so good."

Crap, was I that obvious? "I-I'm fine Havoc-"

He snorted, "like hell you are, you're shaking uncontrollably." I checked my hands, and to my surprise I was. A hand touched my cheek.

I jumped out of my seat. "What the HELL Havoc?!?" I yelled.

He put his hands in the air, "relax, relax, I'm only checking your temperature, not making moves on ya."

I flushed at the last comment.

"See! You're so pale that your cheeks look like they're on fire!" He exclaimed. "And your face was way too cold, here, lemme check again." I backed away, he was coming towards me.

"IM FINE, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD CAN YOU STAY AWAY FROM MEEEEEEE-" someone grabbed my arm with a grip of iron, and shoved something into my mouth, a... thermometer?

Hawkeye sighed. "Havoc, you do realize you could've used this and _asked _before chasing him around the office?" It was her grabbing me. She took the thermometer out of my mouth. "... your temperature is fine, but your definitely _not _alright. Did you get any sleep last night, Zählsargeant?"

I blinked, before resolving to tell the truth. "No... not a wink."

Hawkeye's face remained impassive. "Very well, finish your work quickly and go to home as soon as possible. And make sure you sleep, alright?" She said.

"Y-Yes ma'am." I stuttered. Before heading back to my seat, and breifly staring at Havoc with the best murderous look I could muster. I would get him back later.

After awhile, Mustangs office door creaked open, revealing the Colonel and the Elric Brothers stepping through.

"Hawkeye, I'll be heading out to Shou Tucker's residence to introduce him to the Elric's" I flinched at the older State Alchemists name. The involuntary action must of caught Mustangs eye. "Oh say... you need to interview him for your Zählerchemiker report correct? Then how about you come wi-"

"No!" I spat immediately. Then my eyes widened, and I tried to recover from the mishap. "Uh, Sorry Sir. What I meant to say is I interviewed him already."

Mustangs eyes narrowed. "Really... when?"

I swallowed, the gazes of all my squad _and _Mustang were on me.

"Yesterday evening, Sir." I answered, more steadfastly and evenly this time.

He kept his gaze on me for a few seconds. Before shrugging. "Suit yourself, Sargeant."

I went back to my work, I needed to get out of here.

—[—]—

"Sir, I'd like to report something strange." First Lieutenant Hawkeye stated.

It was late at night, all of Team Mustang had left already, with the Colonel preparing to do the same.

"Yes? What is it, Hawkeye." He asked.

"It's about Richter Sir, you see, he was sleep deprived-"

"And acting ill this morning, as well as his strange outburst when I asked him to go to Tucker's... and he wasn't lying about visiting the man last night, Shou confirmed it himself... but why on earth was he acting so strange?"

"Perhaps he has a weak stomach for chimera's, Sir?" Hawkeye suggested.

"Yeah..." Roy involuntarily shivered, even after the hell he had gone through in Ishval, such things as chimeras still gave him the creeps. "But I felt as if... there was something more, something deeper then that."

Hawkeye pursed her lips together, and didn't respond. Mustang finished packing his suitcase.

"I can't help but feel he knows something I don't. And I really hate that feeling." Mustang said drily. Before perking up. "That reminds me, I have something I need you to do... an out of town mission."

—[—]—

"Where's Lieutenant Hawkeye?" I asked confusedly. It wasn't like her to be late to the office.

Havoc puffed a bit of smoke out of his cigarette, before handing me a piece of paper from his desk. "She left this memo this morning, apparently she has work to do out of town, and left on an early train."

My eyes narrowed at that, there was something off about that... but I couldn't quite place what.

"About yesterday, did you get any sleep, Richter?" Fuery asked concernedly.

I flushed with embarrassment, I wish I could burn that day out of my memory. "Yeah, I did" it was a half lie, as I got sleep, but only 4 hours worth.

The eyes of the chimeras kept me awake, their hold over me in the dark was unbreakable. I knew it was just me hallucinating half-lucid nightmares, but it still kept me from sleeping for too long.

And from chimeras my thoughts would shift to Tucker, and from Tucker to Nina.

How was I going to save her? I knew I wasnt supposed to mess with the timeline... but this was too cruel, too inhuman, I had my orders from Truth, but I'll be damned if I was going to let those get in the way of my morals.

These weren't manga characters anymore, they were _real _people, with lives, stories, hopes and dreams. Who was I to take that away from them without a care in the world?

Now that I think about it... I hadn't met Nina yet. Maybe I could warn her about something, but would she be old enough to understand? And of course she wouldn't doubt her dearest father.

Maybe I could warn Ed and Al... no.. they were to entrapped by the lie of Tucker being a family man by this point. Too far gone in the webs of his deceit.

I could kill Tucker, assassinate him while he slept.

But then I could get caught. And that might mess up the timeline too much if Scar _didn't _kill Tucker.

Too many ways to screw this up... to many potential problems. Then a thought occurred to me.

"Hey Havoc," He perked up from his seat. "Need me to pick up the Elric's for you tonight? I know they work late, and you've been busy with that Fentch case, right?"

His shoulders dropped and he seemed to be in bliss. As if the very idea of being free from extra work was his personal Heaven. "Absolutely, the city traffic makes that drive way too long, and it would be nice to finish work early today." He winked "I got a date."

I grinned, "gotcha, I'll keep the traffic in mind."

I went to my desk and began to do work, and then the door burst open.

"Hey there, Zählsargeant." A voice boomed.

—[—]—

Lieutenant Jean Havoc nearly choked on his cigarette.

Now he had heard the rumors that high command might evacuate (or 'temporarily relocate') to east after the recent murders, but he never realized they would have come _so soon!_

And now there was a random Major staring Richter down, normally this kind of situation with a superior officer staring down a subordinate would be ill news in of itself, but there was one detail that made it so much worse.

Richter... was _purposefully _ignoring the Blond-haired Major.

The entirety of team Mustang was saluting and on edge, they had not been ordered 'at ease' and therefore couldn't put down there hands, though the team was seriously afraid of the potential retaliation that Richter might suffer due to his insubordination.

"I would ask that you come to attention, Zählsargeant!" The Major barked.

_'Alright, if he apologizes and stands up right now it'll be fine.' _Bread thought, it was a view that was shared by the rest of the team.

Richter sighed, and looked up from his paper. "Do you have a reason for interrupting my work, Major?"

'_WHAAAAAAAAAT!' _Breda internally screamed, '_You idiot! You're going to face disciplinary action for sure now!'_

The Major scoffed, clearly offended and _very _angry. "Such disrespect! And to none other than I, a member of the esteemed Strauss family! You insult my families honor!"

Fuery froze in terror, _'The Strauss family? Their patriarch is a member of high command! He's going to get us all executed for insubordination!'_

"If you have nothing important to say, then stop bothering me, now shoo!" Richter made an exaggerated gesture of flapping his hands towards the man.

'_I would've liked to get a wife before I died...' _Havoc whimpered.

The Major glared at the Zählsargeant, But was ignored, the tension in the room built up unbearably, with members of team Mustang silently considering what their finals words would be.

Then, a snort.

...

And then a chuckle.

...

And then, in the most bizarre fashion, both men laughed with such uncontrollable laughter that they fell on the floor and pounded it with their fists.

The entirety of team Mustang deadpanned.

Richter and the Major both stood up, and then hugged each other.

"You've become such a great actor, Strauss." Said Richter, wiping away a tear.

"It's good to see you too, Richter."

—[—]—

"At ease gentlemen." Strauss said, still smiling at our little ruse we had put on.

I had been informed in one of my prior letters from him that it was very likely he would be coming to Eastern Command soon with the bulk of most Central-based military staffers, so I had suggested a small prank to play on my squad mates, and boy did it pay off.

I looked back at my squad mates, Breda and Fuery were stunned, Falman was looking quite relieved, but Havoc seemed annoyed.

"You planned this all beforehand, didn't you Rich?" He growled. I laughed.

"Of course I did, I had to get payback for yesterday didn't I?" I turned back to face Strauss. "So, what's the scoop on the whole murder case?"

Strauss's face turnt dead serious.

"While it's somewhat classified, I'll tell you what I can. First: the killer seems to be targeting State Alchemists, and is extremely dangerous. He's killed at least 7 and counting... and Second: there's another reason I'm here, not just to catch up with you." He held out an envelope. "These are your instructions, open and follow them immediately, Zählsargeant."

I opened the envelope, and glanced at the words.

I nearly choked.

—[—]—

"So, you're the young Zählerchemiker I was told about, you've been quite punctual in coming here." The kindly old voice said, before sipping his tea. "At ease, son. I have no need for formalities currently." He added with a chuckle. "Take a seat."

As I relaxed my posture and took my seat, I couldn't help but look at the man sitting across the desk from me.

Führer King Bradley.

I was unsure why I hadn't had a panic-induced heart attack from the nervous stress I was suffering, and the whole matter was _deeply _disturbing. I was sitting across from a man I would eventually, wether directly or indirectly, help kill.

I pushed that thought to the back of my mind, if my cover gets blown here I'm done for.

"Now, while having a nice chat with you would be pleasant, I'm afraid I must insist we get down to business, shall we?" He said with that charismatic smile and cheer of his, which was ironic considering he had an underlying cold hatred towards my entire species.

"Absolutely, your excellency."

His grin widened, "impeccable manners! It's good to see such an upright lad such as you is in our ranks. Now, it's about the scar-faced killer." And with that line, his smile dropped. "That man is a traitor, and we need to stop him immediately, while a trusted member of investigations-" did he seriously just compliment a man he would play a part in killing? "-is investigating the case, it would be of some use if we had a good anti-Alchemist fighter protecting our important State Alchemists, I assume you already caught on to this reasoning for you being here?"

I nodded, "Yes sir."

His smile returned. "Fantastic, keep a close eye and guard on the Elric's and Colonel Mustang."

"Yes sir."

"Good. Now, I must ask you an important question." I turned my head up. "Is it true your friends with old General Strauss's son?"

I was somewhat startled by the sudden change in topic, but I managed to recover.

"Yes sir, we were squadmates in the excelleration program."

"Ah Yes, in the army you can find your dearest live-long companions." He stated, taking another sip of his tea. "And also your most well-connected friends, you'll have a bright future ahead of you son, just don't lose it."

That last sentence... "Thank you Sir."

He smiled, "you're dismissed."

I walked out of the room after saluting one last time...

That last sentence... it sounded like a threat?

—[—]—

I walked up to the Tucker mansion, and knocked on the door.

It opened to reveal the bastard himself, Shou Tucker.

Oh, and Ed, sprawled out on the floor with a dog on top of him. Even with my dark state of mind I couldn't help but let out a chuckle.

"Watcha doing down there, Fullmetal?" I questioned with mock-wonderment.

"Exercising." He mumbled.

"I see..." at that moment I heard both metallic clanking and soft footsteps coming down the hall, it was Alphonse and...

Nina, what an adorable little girl, her great blue eyes were just as big as in the anime and took up a huge portion of her face, and suddenly, those eyes were filled with sorrow.

"Have you come to take big brother Ed and Al away?"

My heartstrings broke, I immediately went to comfort her but Edward beat me to the punch.

"D-Dont worry Nina! We'll be back tomorrow for sure!"

"Y-Yeah! We promise!" Alphonse chimed in helpfully.

Nina's face split into a ear to ear grin. "Really!?! Alright!" She pumped her fist in the air in joy.

"Speaking of you taking us away, where's Lt. Havoc?" Edward asked.

"Ah he got swamped with a case, so I decided to help him out and pick y'all up for him."

Ed's eyes flashed with curiosity, "'Y'all' is a strange word, never heard it before."

Ah crap, regional accent slipped.

"O-oh, it's just a weird thing my father used to say, It's just 'You' and 'All' slurred together, bad habit I picked up." I laughed nervously.

The Fullmetal Alchemist seemed to ponder that, before shrugging. "You're fine; it's not like my dialect is the most pure Amestrian out there."

I smiled, my lie had worked.

Wait, should I feel glad about successful lies?

My moral compass is starting to fade fast...

"Anyways, come to the car, you're staying at the Falter's Hotel right? I know how to get there." I said.

Alphonse's nodded, "Yes, thank you, Zählsargeant."

I smiled, "just Richter is fine, now come along, I don't want to drive in the dark and the suns setting fast." We began to walk towards the vehicle, before I remembered the message I was supposed to deliver.

"Hey Mr. Tucker, I asked to remind you that your exam is coming up soon."

He regarded that with an unnerving calmness.

"I see."

I went back to the car where the Elric's were waiting, and shuddered before getting in the driver's seat.

The next few days continued the trend of me being the one picking up the Elric's, as Havoc was getting swamped with the extra work from the newly arrived Central Officer's stay. Honestly it was a logistical nightmare.

I hadn't seen the Colonel in awhile, I guess that he's been sulking about temporarily losing his office to some high ranking general.

I sighed, I was in the office. And the hectic chaos of the both Eastern Command and all the other stuff on my plate was starting to get to me.

I checked the clock, it was time to go pick the Elric's up again.

After the short drive, I walked up to the familiar doorstep, and the Elric's opened the door before I could even knock.

"Hey Sargeant! Hope we didn't keep you waiting." Edward said, scratching the back of his head apologetically.

I smiled, "not at all, I just got here." Alphonse soon followed Edward out of the door, and we got back in the car.

I started driving as I had some casual chit chat with the Elric's, like what they did with Nina that day, how there research went (they didn't trust me enough to reveal what they were researching, but unfortunately for them I already knew it was the Philosophers Stone.) and they related funny mishaps that happened on their adventures.

As they got out of the car, I remembered to ask them the usual question.

"How was Mr. Tucker, by the way?"

Edward smiled, "he's good, I think we had a conversation that filled him with new resolve."

Time stopped, and then started again.

"I-I'm sorry what did you say?" I asked.

"Well, He was acting down over his State Alchemist exam, so we decided to cheer him up, and even Nina promised to help him with his research-"

I slammed the dash, glaring at it for a good 5 seconds, before remembering the Elric's were still there.

"U-uh, Sargeant, whats the matter?" Alphonse asked.

I straightened up and regained control of my voice.

"12 o'clock tonight, I'll be here to pick you up." I said.

"What are you talking about-" Edward started.

I glared at him, "I'll tell you if my hunch is correct, but if you don't meet up with me at that hour someone is getting hurt, badly."

The Elric's eyes widened as I started the car, and drove away.

I sighed, my plan better work.

—[—]—[—]—

**An: wow this took awhile to write, and I still left off at a cliffhanger! Sorry about that, IRL stuff has been giving me trouble to find the time to write recently. **

**_Squidzi Galaxi: _nope, due to Eric being from our world, he didn't have the ability to transmute before hand, essentially what he gained was the Gate itself, and not an upgraded connection to the Gate allowing him to do clapping transmutation. And Lightning Transmutation time should happen next chapter. Thanks for reviewing!**

**_Dindagangleader14: _Saving Girl and Doggo vs Overall timeline stability... real doctor who hours rn.**

**_1233moon1233: _Yeah, my main struggle thus far has been trying to make Richter _not _OP, as that takes a lot of the fun out of the story, glad to know it's been going well so far.**

**_LordOfTee: _Hehehehehehe, trust me I have an idea for an extended monologue for Tucker.**

**_Afan__: It's probably one of the best terrifying moments in any work of fiction, we'll see if Richter's plan works..._**

**_Isame Kuroda: _Evil Laughter intensifies.**

**_ShadowHeart: _It happens, but thanks for continuing to read, it means a lot.**

**_LadyJessicaMustang: _Must... Protecc... Doggo...**

**Thanks for reading, and please review!**

**Cya around folks!**


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